Crazy
by sirscreen
Summary: Sequel to Wild Boy. Buffy and the Legion race against the clock to cross the country and save Camp Half-Blood, making unexpected allies and lots of enemies. Meanwhile, in Sunnydale, Xander tries to hold everything together with no Slayer, no vampire with a soul, and one of the deadliest vampires in history after him while fighting his own darkness.
1. The Choice

**Buffy**

"How's she doing?" I asked.

He didn't look away for a second, "No change," his voice sounded was hoarse. That, and his wild eyes and disheveled hair made it seem he that he hadn't slept for a while. He probably hadn't.

"I didn't save her life so you could waste yours away," a familiar, and very unwelcome, voice said behind me.

David leaned against the doorway, looking every bit of the asshole he truly was. Still, there was something familiar about him. He stood about five inches taller than me, so he wasn't especially tall, but he was stocky and broad shouldered. He had the longest hair I had seen since I got here, which admittedly wasn't that long, but it gave him a shaggier appearance than most of the Roman Demigods. At least this time his brown hair was _clean_. When he found us, it had been muddy, unwashed for what looked like a week. His bright green eyes and thin mouth were screwed into their usual scowl, like he found us all to be annoyances that he just had to put up with. Even though he looked unarmed, I knew that he had at least two weapons on him under his red flannel shirt and jeans stained so bad no amount of washing would _ever_ get those stains out. His purple Camp Jupiter shirt was only barely visible underneath.

"Am I going to have to be forceful again?" Percy threatened.

"At this rate I doubt you could," He said, "Your powers are tied to your state of wellness."

"And?"

"You look like crap," he said, voice dripping with scorn, "Lady Reyna wants to see you, and she wants to see you yesterday."

"If she wants to see me, she can come- "

He never got the words out because David ripped the chair right out from under him. Percy tried to react, but days of little sleep, little food, and almost zero activity made him painfully slow, too slow to do anything as David kicked him in the chest. He landed on his back and tried to roll, but David slammed his foot into his chest again, and stood there.

"When Lady Reyna wants to see you," he said, his voice genuinely dangerous for once, "You go to _her._ "

I grabbed David from behind by the shoulders and flung him into a wall. He slammed into it with such force that the brick cracked, and I said, "I'm _sure_ she will make an exception for my friend."

"Ahem."

Great. I turned to see Reyna, the Dictator of Rome, standing in the doorway. Her premature greying hair, silky light blue blouse, charcoal pants, and patent leather pumps made her look smart, like a Fortune 500 CEO ready to conduct a hostile takeover. Considering she has an entire army of warlike demigods at her command, it's not just a figure of speech.

"When I allowed you sanctuary here, I believe not attacking one of my legionnaire's was an obvious condition," she pointed out.

"But- "

"Seeing as how it's David, however," she continued, ignoring me, "I am sure he did something to deserve it."

David glared at her, but shrugged, and was the closest I had ever seen him get to sheepish, "Guilty, my Lady," the only time I had ever seen him display anything close to respect was to Reyna.

"Percy, I _do_ need to see you," she said, "And you too, Buffy. I was hoping that you could tear yourself away from Annabeth for a second."

"I won't- "

"She's not going anywhere," Reyna said, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. I looked away in embarrassment, "If she were awake, would she want you wasting away like this?"

I heard Percy sigh defeated, "Fine. But not for long, though."

"Of course.

Unlike my last, disastrous war council, this one was set in the _Principia_ , in some sort of throne room. A rather impressive oak table, surrounded by rather impressive chairs dominated the space. At the head, on a rather impressive throne, sat Reyna. David, who sort of acted like her bodyguard when not out in the field, stood behind her, arms crossed, looking half annoyed, half serious. To her right, was Frank, recovering quickly from his gut wound. On her left was the pale blonde guy, Octavian, who had been part of the party that rescued us. Those two were apparently the most senior officers of the Legion. A very old guy named Willy Goldberg, the representative of the city of New Rome, sat next to Octavian. I didn't pay much attention when it was explained to me, but apparently the practice of having a complete Senate fell into disuse because there wasn't enough _left_ for a full Senate to be needed. God's curse to a girl's self-esteem, Piper, sat across from him.

Piper was, and there was no way to put it delicately, was Goddamn (Gods? In this universe?) _beautiful_. Her eyes looked like a kaleidoscope, almost like they couldn't decide what color to be, so they chose _all_ of them. Even in a simple heavy duty shirt and cargo pants, she looked like she was about to walk down a runway of faces to the battle field. The fact that she had scars running through her right eye and the left side of her mouth did in no way detract from the fact that she looked fucking _stunning_.

I hate her on principle.

Percy and me sat at the end.

"Camp Half-Blood is about to be overrun," Reyna said, reclining in her chair, her dark eyes flashing, "The army surrounding it is even larger than the one that besieged us."

"Why hasn't the Legion marched to relieve them?" Percy asked.

"Because there are pockets of monsters all over the country," Octavian said, "They organized themselves under the banner of a particular monster by the name of Lamia. She apparently inspired the myth of vampires."

"Vampires inspired the myth of vampires," I pointed out.

"I thought that was _empousai?_ " Percy said. Everyone ignored me.

"Similar creature," Frank said, "She was an ancient Queen of Libya, until… well, let's just say that it was unpleasant, and leave it at that. But she eventually turned to killing and eating children.

"Sounds like she's fun at parties," I said, but everyone looked at me, "She joked."

"You're not funny, Alexis Texas," David said.

Now everyone looked at him in confusion, except Piper, who looked disgusted. He explained, "'Buffy' is a porn star name."

"I'm goanna break your arms," I casually threatened.

"So who's 'Alexis Texas'?" Frank asked.

"Frank, I'll explain later," Piper assured.

"Of course, the daughter of Aphrodite would know who she is," David mocked in his same monotone.

"David," Reyna glared, "If you don't have something to contribute besides your sterling personality, stay quiet."

Now he looked more annoyed than serious, but said respectfully, "As you wish, my Lady."

She gestured at Octavian to continue, "The Legion is stretched thin all over the country. It would take at least three days to get the word out, a week and a half to get the numbers to make a difference. And even then, casualties will be… high."

"Now you see why we need you, Percy," Frank said, "You were always a linchpin. I guess you could say that you are our last prayer to both win and survive this."

"Well, what can I do?" Percy asked.

"That's what we are here to figure out," Reyna said.

"Kill Lamia," David said simply. When everyone stared at him, he said, "She said if I had something useful."

"And how is that useful?" Piper asked.

"If monsters are anything like vampires," I said, hating myself for agreeing with the asshole, "Then they group around a strong personality. If you take out their leader, then they destroy themselves fighting for a new one."

"So the plan is to kill a monster surrounded by her army," Octavian said, "On the other end of a country _infested_ with them, on the _off chance_ that they don't have a successor waiting in the wings?"

When no one spoke up, he sighed, "Well, it's no crazier than any other plan we've come up with."

Piper chuckled, "I highly doubt that it's going to be harder than crossing the Med in a giant flying ship."

"Or going to Alaska to free death," Frank smiled.

"Or being captured by pirates in the Bermuda Triangle," Reyna said.

"What kind of camp are you _running_ here?" I asked.

"I can't go," Percy said.

You could hear a pin drop in here.

"Annabeth hasn't woken up," he said, "I fell into Tartarus rather than let her go. I'm going to be here when she wakes."

"Percy-" Piper began.

"Don't," he said, "What if it was Jason?"

She was about to continue before David interrupted her by laughing. The creepy laugh. The one that said that he was a squeak away from killing everyone in the room in a murderous rampage. He bit his knuckle to get himself under control before saying, "So the guy we waited for, our almost literal _fucking Messiah_ , is refusing to help because his squeeze is too busy taking a _fucking nap?!_ " he continued to laugh.

"Do you want to take this outside?" Percy threatened.

"Oh, I'll _go outside_ ," he chuckled, "You won't unless you want to fucking _die_ ," he said as he walked to the door.

Percy moved to follow him but Reyna said, "Percy," her voice almost _dared_ him to argue. I guess this is why she was _elected_ Dictator, "Leave him. We have better things to do than to see two of own kill each other."

"I could take him," Percy said.

"In your state? Maybe," Reyna said, "But you've been neglecting yourself too long, Percy. And David fights dirty. You _probably_ will win, but you _definitely_ will get yourself hurt."

"And, like him or not," Frank said, "We _need_ David, just like we need _every_ Roman we can get our hands on."

"And he has a point," Reyna said, "We _need_ you for this, Percy. Even if you _just_ were another sword arm."

Percy looked ashamed, but said, "I'm not budging. I'm staying with Annabeth."

"If it helps," I said, "I'll fight with you."

Reyna sighed, "It does a little," she turned to Octavian, "Alert the Legion. Everyone is to be at the rendezvous point we used when the Legion last assembled there in two weeks' time. At that time, we break the siege lines and relieve Camp Half-Blood."

 **David**

 _Whack!_

 _Leave our house, Olympian scum._

 _Whack!_

 _Don't ever come back._

 _Whack!_

 _Leave!_

 _Whack!_

Damn. Out of ammo.

I took a deep breath and wound the sling shot around my fingers. The lead balls I used as ammo were probably too deformed to be used again, so I didn't even bother to gather them up from the post I had been slinging them at (and no, I don't use one of the puny wrist rockets you get at the store. Mine was like the one the original David used to kill Goliath).

"You were in a particularly aggravating mood today," a sweet voice said behind me.

"I'm in no mood for you to shrink my head today, McLean," I said, walking toward my barracks.

"You know I've actually _met_ Ceres," she said, "One of the nicest and politest goddesses ever."

"That's why I take after my father," I said.

"Oh, that's right," she said in a mocking tone, "You don't particularly _care_ about your mother."

"She abandoned me," I said, "So I abandoned her."

"I wonder if you will ever realize just how full of _shit_ you are," she said.

"Says the living personification of love who stayed here for months while her husband is surrounded by an army," I said, "So how full of shit are _you?_ "

"The only shit in my life is you and that in my son's diaper," she countered, "When you are ready to talk about what's _really_ bothering you, come talk."

"I'll only do it when that son of yours stops stinking up the house!" I called back to her, before stepping into my barracks room. Technically I was supposed to share it with three other people, but there weren't enough people in the Third left, so the survivors got their own room.

We'd rather have our brothers and sisters back.

I had barely put up my two collapsible scythes than I heard the door open, "Come back for round two?"

"Just a follow-up," a voice that was so not McLean's said.

I turned and inclined my head, "My Lady."

"Why do you call me that?" she said, sitting down on my one chair, a cushiony thing that was beginning to fray.

"I figured if we are living in the old days," I said.

"Yet you don't show the same respect to Frank or Octavian," she said.

"Octavian took me in because you ordered it," I pointed out, "And the Push was Zhang's idea."

"Frank was commended for breaking the Siege of New Rome," she pointed out.

"Yeah," I nodded, "He got a medal. My friends got buried."

"He lost friends too," she said.

"I don't really care about his friends," I said, "I care about _mine_."

"It still doesn't explain why you only show respect to me," she said, looking me in the eye.

I met her gaze without flinching, though it still gave me the creeps. Stupid war goddess powers, "You took me in when I didn't have a home."

"You were pretty old for someone who had survived out on his own until he found Lupa," she said.

"I wasn't on my own," I said, "I just said I didn't have a home."

"So is that it?" she said, "You were kicked out, so you feel the need to push away anyone close to you?"

"Actually, I'm just an asshole by nature," I said.

She just sighed in defeat, looking way too old for my liking, "You are one of my best legionnaires, and if you improved your attitude, you would be an officer already. As it is, I can't spare you. But we _will_ win this war. And when we do, I want to keep you."

"What are you saying?" I asked, a feeling of dread settling in.

"If you don't clean up your attitude, then I won't stand in the Senate's way when they vote to expel you."

 **Xander, at Giles House.**

 _Twang!_

Jen cocked an eyebrow, "Well, that's singularly useless."

"If you would please stop touching the deadly weaponry," Giles asked before turning back to his book.

"This crossbow is the singular shittiest one I have _ever_ seen," she said, placing it down on the Itable, "its heavy, lacks a sight, and I would guess that it's inaccurate as hell because of the previously mentioned two."

"Buffy seems to be able to use it well enough," Jesse pointed out.

"Buffy is superhuman," Cordy pointed out.

"Exactly," Jen said, "I get it, we need wood bolts to kill vamps, but that doesn't mean we have to stay _completely_ in the Dark Ages."

"What do you suggest?" I asked.

"We go modern," she said, "Composite crossbow, carbon fiber construction, glowing sights for night shooting. Light weight, a million times more accurate, and usable by us mere mortals."

"And you know about these _how_?" Cordy asked.

"My Daddy and I like to go hunting," she said.

"I never want to meet your father," I said.

"Yeah, I can see how that conversation would," she smiled and got a far off look in her face, "'Hey, Mr Taggard, I'm the guy who's been screwing your daughter. So I heard you were a Marine at one time, that's pretty cool'."

Giles spit took his tea and Jesse's jaw dropped to the floor, while Cordy's eyes flashed dangerously. Meanwhile, my brain was doing a great impression of a record that was skipping a track, "Huh?"

She laughed, "Chill guys, I'm joking. He hasn't even asked me out yet. He's gonna, though."

"I am?"

"Yeah," she looked even more amused, "You were going to take me out for ice cream tomorrow."

"I was?"

"You are," she corrected.

"When?"

"Now."

"Why?"

"Because it _slightly_ increases your chances of seeing tits."

"Do you wanna go out for ice cream tomorrow?"

"I would love to," she said.

"Americans," Giles said.

"Just lie back and think of England," Jesse advised absently, still trying to process what the hell just happened. To be honest, I wasn't entirely sure what happened myself, but hey. Tits.

Giles glared at Jesse, but said, "You have a point, Jennifer. These weapons where designed for Slayers to use."

"Maybe we can go farther," Cordy said, "Why not guns?"

"Guns have max distances of hundreds of feet at least," Jen pointed out, "Even shotguns. And suppressed weapons are still loud as hell. And the consequences of minors in possession of firearms is too much of a risk for me, personally, to take. A crossbow can be used for varmint hunting, and isn't illegal for a minor to carry."

"What's a varmint?" I asked.

"Coyote," she clarified, "As far as I'm aware, they're classified as pests, so it's a year-long season. Plus, they are completely nocturnal."

"Plausible excuse," Jesse said.

"And she's right," Cordy said, looking very annoyed with herself, "We aren't goanna get anywhere if we fight like Buffy and Percy did. We have to be smart about this."

"I can whip up explosives," Jesse volunteered, "Giles is good on the magic and research front. Jen's got her whole hunting/outdoorsy thing. And Xander's an evil genius, apparently."

"Hey!" I protested, "How dare you appoint me as the evil genius of the group when I haven't even had time to work on my evil laugh."

"If you lot are done," Giles said, "Could you please help me go through Annabeth and Percy's things? You know, the very _reason_ I asked you here in the first place, rather than continue to destroy my apartment with deadly weapons?

 **Cordelia**

Annabeth was _filthy_. Insanity was no excuse for leaving your feminine hygiene products just lying about.

I wrinkle my nose at the stench of rotting period blood and shoved it into the black bag. Typical boys wouldn't go anywhere near that, so it fell to me and Jen.

"I've cleaned pig sties cleaner than this," Ms Country complained.

"Annabeth was never all there, but this is getting ridiculous," I said.

"So," she said, "How long have you been in love with Xander?"

"How-What-How," I whirled around and stared at her, mouth agape. She just arched an eyebrow at me, which pissed me off because that what _I_ do, and stared right back, not breaking eye contact.

"What makes you- okay, I'm not gonna lie," I admitted, "Xander is cute, and I've known him since damn near forever. And he's not a _total_ dork."

"No, he is a total dork," Jen said, "So why haven't you made a move?"

"Because I've known him for damn near forever and he's a total dork," I pointed out.

"Never understood the reason of 'knowing him damn near forever'," Jen said, "But I've never stayed any place long enough for that."

"I thought you grew up on ranch?"

"Before my mom got married, I moved around a lot," she shrugged, "But that's not the point, I think it's a good thing you aren't dating Xander."

"Oh? And why is that, Ms Country?"

"You say it like an insult, I take it as a compliment," she drawled, deliberately using an exaggerated accent to piss me off, "But seriously. When was the last time you said something _nice_ to him?"

I thought about that for a moment, "I think I said his shirt was as eye-bleedingly ugly as the ones he usually wears."

"That's it? That's you being nice?"

"Well, I'm not a nice person," I said.

"And Xander is," she said, "If two people can't get along, they shouldn't be dating."

"Oh? And where did you lean that?" I asked.

" _iCarly_ ,"she said, "Sitcom on Nickelodeon, give it ten years. Anyway, the point remains, I think that if you dated Xander, it would only end with _both_ of you unhappy.

"Oh really?" I said, standing to my full height, towering over by a full head, fixing her with my forceful, 100% Queen C glare that sent nerds running for the hills, not giving a shit that she once almost beheaded a very dangerous vampire with a knife she most assuredly had on her now, "Let me inform you of this, back country Cletus, Xander would be _lucky_ if he dated me. But it seems that he's settling far below his station instead of being… _ambitious._ "

She had the nerve to not only look bored, but to actually _arch that damn eyebrow at me again_. For a second neither of us said a thing as we stared each other down. I head little _pops_ that were probably her popping knuckles, maybe to take a swing, maybe just to scare me. Well, either way it worked. But I would damned if I was backing down.

We were interrupted by Giles opening the door, "Cordelia, Jennifer, are you-" he was interrupted by the rather large and intimidating knife that embedded into the door frame less than a foot from his face.

"We are in the middle of something, Mr Giles" I said, my eyes not leaving hers.

"If you would please come back at a later time, Mr Giles," Jen said.

I heard him gulp, and hastily say, "Splendid. Nice to see you two getting along."

I arched an eyebrow at her, "The knife was a bit much, wasn't it?"

"It might have been."

"Alright," I said, "Take Xander for ice cream. Take his kisses and affections, because when you screw up, and you _will_ screw up, I will be there and snap him up like he's about to come into style."

"I thought the phrase was 'going out of style'."

"I'm a trend-setter," I said, "Are we done here?"

"We should probably stuff the beadspread into the laundry," she said, "It looks filthy."

"Fine," she said, yanking off the top cover, revealing a thin, shiny metal square with a white triangle printed on it. She nonchalantly put it on the dresser.

"What's that?" I asked.

She looked at it, "Macbook, with a custom design," she said with a shrug, "Over-priced piece of crap, according to my nerd friends back home."

"Never heard of it," I said as I picked it up. It looked a little like the laptop my father had on his desk, but much thinner and lighter.

"Really?" she asked, "They're really popular… in about twenty years. Forgot I'm from some alternate future."

"Daedalus' laptop," I said, remembering what Annabeth told me, "The most advanced computer ever made."

"Daedalus, as in wings of feathers and wax, ancient Greece… and I have _met_ an ancient Greek goddess. Okay, we should probably show that to Giles."

"We should," I agreed.

All of us were crowded around Ms Calendar, who was squeezing with delight without even opening it, "It's so _light_ ," she said, "And _thin!_ Does that effect processing power? Or battery life? Ooh! Do you think the size means that there are larger ones with more… _everything?!_ "

"She gets this excited for a bloody machine and yet falls asleep at the opera," Giles said.

"Shut up, Fuddy-Duddy," Ms Calendar said, "Okay, okay," she took a deep breath and shook her hands, "Let's be calm about this, everyone."

"You're the one freaking out," Jesse said.

"Someday I hope to as happy as you are right now," Jen said.

"True happiness only comes once in a life time," I teased.

"Shutup, all of you," Ms Calendar said, "Okay, opening up- the screen size is _huge!"_

"If only she said that about things Giles has," Xander said.

"One specific thing," Jesse said.

"Okay, Giles is _hung_ ," Ms Calendar said.

"Ew!" I said.

"That's an image I will _never_ be able to get out of my head." Xander said.

"That got weird _real_ fast," Jesse said.

"I just don't believe it," Jen said.

"Please," Giles said, polishing his glasses to sand, "Just… just stop talking."

"Okay, turning on," she said, pressing the power button.

The machine powered up with a high-pitched whine, and screen came to life, a triangle fading into existence on the screen. Characters, not English ones, began to dance across the screen.

"What…" Ms Calandar said, "Is this?" she looked down at the keyboard, which had similar characters, "I can't read this."

"It's Ancient Greek," Giles said, looking at it, "Some dialect I haven't come across."

"Because its code," she turned to us, "I don't suppose either of you knows both computer code _and_ dead languages?"

"Sorry, I flunked Ancient Greek Software last semester," Xander snarked.

The characters continued to dance across the screen at ever increasing speed. And then things got weird.

"The hell?" Ms Calendar said.

"I'm not a geek, but isn't codes supposed to _go down?!_ " I asked.

"It should," Ms Calendar said.

The code was now, somehow, flowing to the right. The cursor was all over dancing across the screen, flowing down and rocketing up and right as it reached the bottom, sending more confusing characters across the screen.

And then things got _weirder_.

A voice began to speak from the speakiers, raspy and old, but friendly, like a cool, older uncle. I had no idea what he was saying, because he was speaking in some foreign language.

"It's more Greek," Giles said.

"What's he saying?" Jesse asked.

"I don't know," Giles said, "He's speaking to fast. Obviously a native speaker."

"I thought you spoke ancient Greek?" Jen asked.

"It's not like I speak it every day," Giles snapped, "He keeps saying something about a door or some such."

And the things reached their _WEIRDEST_.

The cursor was dancing across the screen like some epileptic child on crack, and the characters were a confused mess and the screen flashed green, so bright Ms Calendar leaped back and cried out in pain, and all of us were blinded.

When the spots from our eyes finally cleared, a door, grand, imposing stood before the computer. It wasn't solid, in fact, it looked like it was half-made of smoke, and might blow away any second. But it was menacing. Thick iron hinges held it to its frame, and the wood was knotted and roughhewn ebony, black as midnight. Silver designs covered it, with most of it showing scenes of horror and death, heroes in armor fighting and dying against monsters and… _things_ , while the gods looked down on them from above, indifferent to their suffering.

And below those scenes of suffering, were… people. Farmers plowing a field, women spinning thread, artists making things of beauty. All blissfully unaware of the horror just inches above them. Indeed, the heroes stood directly between them and the monsters, locked shield and ready to give their very lives to spare the people.

In a flash I wasn't in Giles' living room. I was once more in Lane the Butcher's hard grip, and my body was filled with terror as Lane squeezed the life out of me. And then Willow, tiny, terrified Willow, leaped on his back and put him in a headlock. And I got a glimpse of Willow eyes, scared to death, yes, but full of determination. Before all the gods, she would not let someone die if she could help it.

And she died that night when Lane snapped her neck like a twig.

 _Are you going to walk through the door_? Annabeth had said once.

Are you going to be a hero?

I remembered the pain, the echoing numbness and sadness and anger and fear and every emotion in the spectrum I felt when Willow was killed. That such an innocent life was snuffed out by evil for the simple fact that it could.

I'll be damned if another felt like I did.

You are damn right I'm going to walk through the door.

I put my hand on the door. I half expected it to pass right through, but it was firm, and warm. Hot even. I pushed, and it swung silently and freely. Darkness stood on the other side.

"Cordy," I heard Xander, "What are you doing?"

I gulped but didn't answer.

"Cordy, wait," he said, "You don't know what'S in there."

"Oh, I do," I said.

Death was in there. Pain, and loss, and darkness, and despair, and every horror, abomination, and evil that ever walked or will walk or crawl of slither or- I don't give a fuck. They will not take another life so long as I live.

I stepped through the door.

Immediately it was like being put into a furnace, except in utter darkness. I thought I would be burned to cinders in an instant, but then I was… enveloped, in a presence that was old and powerful and formless. It was warm and comforting, like Daddy's hugs from when I was a little girl, safe. I heard a voice, both old and young, male and female, human and… other say _Cordelia…_

It was filled with pride, like what I always wanted Daddy's to sound like.

And I was back in Giles' living room. Annabeth's computer stood open in front of me, cursor blinking at the end of a message.

 _Good Choice. –A_


	2. We Win

**Buffy**

The Legion's mode of transport was… schizo.

The _Ogygia_ , a flying boat that was bristling with giant crossbows that could put an explosive arrow clean through concrete, didn't have the range needed to cross the country. At least, not without stopping every day to recharge it's solar sails. It also didn't have enough room to house us all. In fact, it had almost _no_ room for its one operator, a pretty girl in oil stained coveralls who was apparently 5,000 years old, who was also apparently married to a guy trapped in Camp Half-Blood. Which was a shame. I saw it do a bombing run on a column of ogres, and I would sleep better knowing we had air support beside eagles.

Of which there were only about a dozen, and they could only hold at most two, but each were only holding one. Half were going to track down the remaining Demigods in the cities to tell them of the March, as it was already called. The other half were going to help coordinate the March itself, which is where things got… confusing.

"Can you run this by me one more time?" I asked Paul, a rather big and imposing Guido who was the son of Venus, and the nicest guy. I was lucky to have him with me as my traveling companion.

I was unlucky to have David as the other one.

"Need me to break out the sock puppets for Lexi Belle over here?" David asked, using what I assumed to be another porn star name.

I was going to kill him before the trip was over.

"No thanks," I said, "I'm not interested in your weird fetishes."

"Dude," Paul said to David in exasperation, before sighing in defeat and explained, "Okay, the Legion can't march across the country as one, because of monster attacks. Normally, this wouldn't be a problem, because we would be big enough to scare off most of them. But, our strength is so depleted, we can't afford to weaken ourselves even a little. So, we divided the Legion into a lot of smaller groups of three. Each group takes a car and follows their route to the rendezvous points. When we get there, we keep a record of who we meet if we link up with another group. Still following?"

"Stay small to hide, meet up with others. Okay."

"Good. Now, if we meet up with one of the Eagles, we tell them every group we met since the last time we saw an eagle. Eventually, the eagles will all meet up with Octavian and the rest of the officers, giving them a full list of who we have and who we… lost."

"How come Reyna isn't coming with us?"

David answered, " _Lady_ Reyna has a city to lead. She wants to, but perks come with prices."

"If we fail, and Camp Half-Blood falls," Paul said gravely, "She's going to be the one to lead Rome as the last bastion of Olympus."

"Fuck that," David said, "The Legion is home. The gods can shove their holy pricks in mud for all I care."

Paul looked up in trepidation as lightening shook the sky, "Dude," he said again.

David snorted and flipped the bird to the sky, "You can give one to my mother while you're at it! Oh wait, _you already did you godly man-whore!_ "

And then it started raining. Hard.

Paul just shrugged and said, "Oh well. At least it's not hailing this time."

"Just wait for it," I warned as David stalked off to get our final bit of supplies and put it in the white Jeep that was assigned to us, "Who is his mother, anyway? Because I don't recall the Roman Goddess of Assholes."

"Probably is one," Paul said, "But nah, his mom is Ceres, Goddess of Grain. She's actually one of the more polite and respectful of the gods."

"So what happened to him?" I asked, sheltering in the passenger seat as he climbed into the drivers.

"Not my story to tell," he said, "Pretty much, the Legion is all he has left, and he's not happy about it."

"But you two are from the same unit, right?"

"Yeah," Paul said, "He showed up when we were still under siege. Slipped right through the lines, both of ours. The Third Cohort's section, to be precise. Man, were _we_ embarrassed."

"How'd he do that?" I asked.

"He rolled himself in mud and spent most of the night crawling on his belly along the outer perimeter of the enemy camp," Paul said in a low tone to build excitement. I'll admit it worked a bit, "When he got close enough, just before dawn, he set fire to bombs the Laistrygonian giants used for a distraction. It worked pretty well, because not only did it pull them from the lines, it also made us prepare for an attack ourselves. We spent three hours just staring, waiting, ready to fight off eight feet tall Canadian giants while he snuck into Camp and met with Reyna," he paused, and smiled mischievously at me, " _In her bedchamber."_

 _"No!"_

"Gods honest truth," he said, right hand up, "An hour later, she comes down to the Third, him in tow, all showered and shiny, to us, tired and shit, and explained what had happened. Since he snuck through our sector, _we_ were going to be the ones to take him in. To say we were-"

"Awed?"

"Embarrassed, actually," he said, "Yeah, we were embarrassed a Probie had snuck through our lines and made it all the way to the Dictator's chamber. But, he was good at what he did. Not that great with a blade, but the best damn scout in the Legion. We sometimes call him Bilbo."

"Huh?" I asked.

"What, you've never seen the Hobbit?"

"I'm from the 90s."

"Oh, yeah," he smacked his head, "Well, Bilbo was the guy the group called on for anything involving stealth. So yeah, that's how David got to be here."

"What do you think went on between Reyna and David?"

"If you want to know what-" he shut up as David hopped in, soaked to the bone, and shoved a cardboard box into the back seat and put a thermos in the cup holder, "That it?"

"War drained the supply, brother," David said, "Be grateful they gave me that much with my rep. And for the record," he leaned forward and stared me straight in the eye, his bright green eyes hardening, " _Nothing_ happened between me and Lady Reyna."

"That's where I recognize you!" I said, "Is your last name Taggard?"

"What? No," he looked thoughtful, "I think I got a cousin in Arizona who married a guy named Taggard, but I've never met them."

"Her name's Jen," I said, "She's a really pale, really country-"

"I grew up in Colorado in a town of less than 400 people," he said, "My whole _family_ is country."

"His mom is the Goddess of Farms," Paul said.

"Her dad was some sort of special forces marine guy," I continued.

He sighed in defeat and pinched his nose in frustration, "Okay, I'm not even going to go there for my own sanity, but I know who you're talking about. Her father was pretty famous in the family for a while."

"'Was'?"

"Yeah. Jennifer Taggard is an orphan."

 **Xander**

"Cordy, you look like crap," I observed.

"I know," she whined, running her hand through her tangled hair, thankfully hidden by a hat. There was no hiding her bloodshot eyes and unusually pale skin, "I was up all night trying how to figure out how to use that damn computer, since apparently I'm the only one who can _use_ the damn thing."

After Cordy did… whatever she did, she was the only one who could read the computer, and had to take private computer lessons from Ms Calendar to even use the damn thing. Unfortunately, both described it as being "as random and crazy as Annabeth was" and wasn't making much headway in making use of it. But "much" is a relative term, because one lucky night they managed to get it to identify over a dozen vampire nests based on feeding patterns, along with what looked like SCUD missile sights in Iraq from the CIA mainframe. Ms Calendar said it was the most powerful computer in the world.

And could only be used by The Queen C. May God help us.

"Have you tried pressing 'deliver'?" I asked.

"Haha," Cordy glared at me, "So how'd your date with Jen go?"

"I was a dork the entire time," I said, "And I still got a kiss goodnight."

"So glad to see your head isn't getting big now that you got a girlfriend," she observed.

"Oh my head's getting big," I said.

"You're disgusting," she scoffed.

"I just agreed with you about my ego," I argued, "You're the one who drew dirty conclusions, you dirty, dirty girl."

She glared that glare that used to send me running for cover, but countless waves of the undead had rendered me immune… mostly, "I took it too far, didn't I?"

"Overshot by a mile," she clarified.

"Overshot what by a mile?" Jesse asked as he fell in step.

"Damn, where you been, man?" I asked.

"Sorry, spent all night looking through a microscope," Jesse said, turning to Cordy, "By the way, you were right. That soil sample was weird."

"Right about what?" I asked.

"Weird how?" she asked ignoring me.

"I found a dead mayfly in the sample," he said.

"How is a mayfly weird?" I asked.

"Because it's not May," Jesse said.

"Observant of you," Jen said as she fell in.

"Weird soil sample," Cordy said.

"There's a story here and I want in," I said.

Cordy sighed, "I somehow managed to put a soil sample into the laptop to analyze, and it started going crazy. So I gave a sample to Jesse."

"Where'd you get the sample?" Jen asked.

"It was in the pocket of that vamp that almost got Xander the other night," Cordy said.

"So what's so weird about a mayfly being in the sample?" I asked.

"It means he was killed and buried sometime in May," Jesse said.

"And how was that odd?" Jen asked.

"Because all of three people were killed with neck wounds that month," Cordy said, "And all three of them were later killed by Percy and Buffy within a few days of rising."

"Only three?" I asked, "Damn, Buffy and Percy were doing damage."

"That means that we missed one," Jesse said.

"Or we got out of towners moving in," Cordy finished.

"And how is that such a worrying thing?" Jen asked.

"Because then we're going to have to change our tactics much sooner than expected," Xander said, "Okay, we got all the supplies we can get, we're just going to have to skip dress rehearsal. Showtime is tonight."

 **The Bronze**

"Comm check," I said.

 _"Overwatch Check,_ " Cordy said.

 _"Honey check,"_ Jen said.

"Alright, just like we planned," I said into my talkie, looking down at the dance floor, finding my target with ease, "Disco Dan, near emergency exit."

 _"On it,"_ Jen said as she slipped the talkie into her purse. It was a short ranged kids toy, but it was the only thing small enough where we could keep it concealed easily, and still be in budget.

Jen was dressed in a ridiculously short dress that left a lot of leg and neck exposed, and her hair was artfully done by Cordy in a wild mane, that tussled at the slightest breeze, so to capture the blood suckers attention. The amount of bitching Cordy did when Jen was chosen to be the honey trap was ridiculous, something about me thinking she was prettier (I, admittedly, didn't disagree, because being kissed by a pretty girl was a novel and interesting experience, and I'm trying not to screw it up). I finally won her over with the argument that we needed her because she was the only one capable to read that laptop.

She still bitches at me. Go figure.

"She made contact," I said, "Overwatch, ETA?"

 _"That's the wrong use of the word,"_ Jesse said.

"Excuse me?"

 _"ETA means 'Estimated Time of Arrival',"_ Jesse said, _"We're already here, what you want know is when are we gonna be ready."_

I'll have a discussion with him later, "Which is?"

 _"Five minutes,_ " He answered.

And then I saw Jen being pulled to the door, "Shit, you got two," I said.

 _"We're not ready."_

"Get ready," I said, hurrying down the landing and pushing my way through the crowd to get to the emergency exit.

I finally broke through and burst through the door, to see Jen struggling against the vamp, as he held onto her arm, "Let go!" she cried, the fear in her voice stabbing me through the heart like an icicle.

"Come one, Doll," he said, vamping out, "Scream for- OW!"

He clutched his nose as she drove her elbow into it, followed by a neck punch. He gasped and clutched his throat, and she drove a push kick into his stomach. He staggered back a bit, while she lost balance on her heels and fell to the floor. He snarled in rage.

I pulled the knife out of the sheathe at the small of my back and threw it with all my (feeble) might. It might as well have been a rock as the handle hit him in the chest, making him glower at me, "Your next, bloodbag."

And then he got hit with a keg.

He went down like a sack of potatoes as the keg hit the ground and ruptured, spraying holy water everywhere (Man, was that an awkward conversation with the priest). He screamed in pain as his skin boiled and burned, and tried to roll away only to be hit by a net laden with weights pilfered from the school gym, and then hit with arrows as fast as Cordy and Jesse could fire.

When he stopped thrashing around, probably due to the sedative we laced the arrows with, I put a stake through his heart. I glared back up at Cordy and Jesse, "That was uncomfortably close," I said.

 _"Next time give us more time!_ " Cordy called down, scowl on her face.

Now that the danger had died down, I was too tired to argue with them. I turned to Jen and asked, "You okay?"

She looked pale, but gulped and said, "I'm alright. Arm's bruised, but that's it."

"Did good," I assured her, and called up, "Jesse, bring your truck around and help me pick this shit up. I want us gone before anymore vamps show up."

As those two disappeared, Jen said, "Well, got a vamp down. No one got hurt. I call this a win."

I turned to her. She nearly died, and I was tantamount to useless, "Yeah," I said darkly, "We win."

 **Please Review!**


	3. SNAFU

**Buffy**

It was a loooong drive. Thankfully, David was cursed, or I was blessed, to not be able to stay awake in the car. We had scarcely been gone five minutes before he was passed out in the back seat. Even he couldn't be an asshole while asleep.

Paul, meanwhile, was pounding something called "pre-workout" like it was a life line. Apparently, "pre-workout" was liquid cocaine. Because he was talking faster than I did when I hung out with my Buffettes in Hemery.

"Seriously?!" He shouted, "That's what's wrong with this day and age! It's not the monsters that pretty much declared the entire San Francisco Bay an ecological disaster zone, or the lack of mortal response because they _apparently_ can't be trusted to use the _staggering_ amount firepower they have to help us fight these monsters, I'm telling you, it's not that! _It's people assuming that just because I'm a guido, I act like the guys from Jersey Shore!_ "

"What's Jersey Shore?" I asked.

"It's a stupid reality TV show about a bunch of idiots from New Jersey who just happen to be Italian American!" he ranted, "Now, I'm from Italian, I'll admit, I'll even admit to being a Guido! I mean, I like nice things and working out and tanning and big fake boobs-"

"Stop, your classiness is making my heart flutter," I snarked.

"My point is," he said, "Just because I'm like that doesn't mean I'm an idiot duchebag, am-"

David suddenly sat up, his eyes wild, "Trouble."

"Where?" Paul asked, shutting up so fast it made my head spin. He was still fidgeting at the steering wheel, but his eyes were laser focused on David in the back seat.

"Not sure," he said.

"How can you be sure- I feel it to," I said as I felt the cold breath across my neck. Something dangerous was coming.

David was peering out the window of the jeep, his eyes still bleary from sleep, but he said, "Where are we?"

"Ten minutes outside of Tahoe," Paul said.

"You were doing the 'Guido Speech' again weren't you?"

"Yah heard me?"

"No, you always do the Guido Speech when you mainline pre-workout," David said, "One of these days your heart is goanna give out, ya Mook."

"Hey!" he said, "I'm Italian, not Irish, ya goddamn Commie!"

"Fascist Musso-dickwad," David said, a smile on his face.

"I'll never understand guy-friendships," I complained.

"We're not friends," Paul said.

"We're brothers," David said, fist-bumping him.

"For li-"

He never got the word out.

A spear smashed through the windshield and impaled him right through the chest. I heard David shout " _PAUL!_ " as he slumped in his seat, dragging the steering wheel to the right. I tried to reach for it but I was too late, and we rocketed off the road and down the hill.

I was being thrown around like a ragdoll in my seatbelt, which probably saved me. The only thing I was aware of was the Jeep rolling down the hill so fast the world flashed blue and green. Finally, the Jeep stopped with a _crunch_ against a tree, leaving me upside down, and pinned with my chin on my chest, panting from the adrenaline.

"Paul?" I asked, "David?"

I yanked on my seatbelt, but it was stuck. Damn thing. I had to pull with all my Slayer strength before I heard a sharp breaking sound, and the fabric fell away. I pushed on the door, but I couldn't get any leverage. I gritted my teeth, and forced my body through the tight space of metal, before I got my feet on the door, my back against something warm and wet.

And then the Jeep caught fire.

"Oh no," I said as I smelled smoke, and felt the temperature rise. I desperately started kicking the door, but it wouldn't budge, "Ohnoohno-"

A strong hand grabbed my arm and pulled me, none too gently between the seats and out the rear driver door, and kept pulling me a good distance away. The Jeep was totaled, upside down and leaning against a tree, and a fire on the undercarriage.

"Stay here!" David yelled as he charged back to the Jeep.

"Wait!" I yelled, "Are you insane! It's goanna blow!"

He ignored me as he grabbed the driver door, planted his feet on the side and pulled with all his might. The door wouldn't budge.

I cursed myself and ran to him, pushing him away and taking his place. The door screeched in protest as I pulled it out of the way, enough for David to dive in and pull Paul's limp form out of the Jeep. He put an arm over his shoulder and I did the same, and we ran down the hill as fast as we could.

The explosion still knocked us down like flies.

"What the hell?!" I screamed at David, who was hovering over Paul, "What were you thinking?! Wh-"

I stopped at the last thing I expected.

David was crying.

Paul was dead beyond a doubt. If the spear through his chest didn't kill him, the broken neck definitely did. And David kneeled over his body, his left hand clutching his heart, his right hand reaching for, but not quite touching, Paul's face, his chin trembling as tears flowed down his face.

"Brother?" he said, his voice cracking, "Paul?"

"David," I said, "David, I'm sorry, but we don't have time. Whoever- "

"We are _not_ leaving him on this side of the river," David said, his voice still brittle. He stood up and put his hand on a nearby tree, and in barely more than a whisper, said, "Tree? I know I'm an ass, but if you- "

The ground shook under him as the roots shifted, pulling themselves up and clearing a small space under the tree. David swallowed, and said "Thank you," he whispered, "May your years be long, and your leaves shine green for the splendor of your family."

He carefully, reverently, picked Paul up, and laid him to rest under the tree, putting a gold coin in his mouth before closing his eyes to the world. He stepped back and bent his head in respect as the tree covered up his brother.

"David?" I asked, tentively, unsure how to handle the situation. I felt crummy, to say the least. In the short time I've known him, I _liked_ Paul, "We need to go. Who or what-ever threw that spear-"

" _Cynocaphali_ ," David said.

"What?"

" _Cynacaphali,_ " he repeated, "A tribe of dog-men from Africa and India. I've seen that type of spear before."

"Okay," I nodded, "But we need to move."

"They will track us," he said, "And we lost our packs in the fire. Our best bet is to head north and downhill, toward Tahoe Lake. Monsters like these avoid large-"

He was interrupted by what sounded like twenty wolves howling, "We need to run."

"Oh, yeah," I agreed.

We sprinted down the hill, feeling like at any moment we would trip and break our necks. Despite my Slayer stamina, my heart hammered in my chest as I half-ran, half-fell down the hill, leaping over rocks and swerving to avoid trees. Finally, we reached the lake at the base, with David swerving his head around and cursing, "FUCK!"

"What is it?" I asked.

"This isn't Tahoe Lake," he said, "It's Cascade Lake! We're a good five miles away from civilization!"

"Are you-" I was about to shout before a spear _whooshed_ past me, missing my head by inches. I heard growling in the forest, "This is bad."

"No shit, Lexie," David said, pulling a sling from his pocket and sliding a rock into it. He wound it over his head.

I pulled the spear out of the ground, "I will not die being called a pornstar!"

"Iron won't work on them," he said, tossing a collapsible baton at me, "Try this."

I flicked it out, and the haft solidified into beautiful, well sanded apple wood, with a delicately curved, golden scythe at the end. Worn, warm brown leather was wrapped around the end, and it gripped amazingly well. The whole thing still smelled of the orchard still, bringing back memories of when I was a kid and Mom took me to one, letting me run around in my little, scratchy blue dress, the smell of ripening apples thick in the air.

Typical. I ask for a weapon, and get a _farming tool_.

I didn't have time to even snark as the first monster burst through the bush, a thin, tall, hunched man covered in fur, with a doglike snout filled with sharp yellow teeth and bloodshot eyes, wearing leather armor and carrying an iron spear, the head the same design as the one that killed Paul.

It reeled in midair as David beaned it in the head with one of the rocks. As he bent to scoop up another, I sprinted to the monster and brought down the scythe. It cut through his neck like it was made of warm butter, and he exploded into black dust. I heard a _whooshing_ sound sail past my ear, and heard another rock make contact with a dog-skull.

" _Duck!_ " David shouted.

I ducked as a spear stabbed where I had been seconds before, and swiped the arm holding it with the scythe. The arm and spear fell as I heard a mutt-like yelp of pain. I grabbed the dog by the throat and took its head off, only for another to pounce on me.

I slammed into the hard gravel of the beach, using both hands to keep the dog's snapping jaws away from my throat, it's rancid breath hitting me like a sledgehammer. I squeezed its neck with all my might, put my thumb under its jaw, my other hand on its spine, and snapped its neck.

I rolled away as another dog buried its spear in the ground where I had been a second before. I continued to roll towards David as he launched another rock into the skull of the dog, knocking it to the ground. I picked myself up and readied the scythe as David pulled out another one, made out Oak. We backed up as three more came out of the bushes.

"Any ideas?" I asked.

"Fight hard, die well, bring no shame upon the Legion?" he said weakly.

"Your ideas suck."

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	4. Wi-Fi and Trust

**Xander, Giles' place**

I am going to admit: I'm a bit of a chauvinist. And by that I don' mean that girls are weak. I can't hang around Buffy and Jen, or Cordy for that matter, and think that. No, I mean I have a lot of trouble hitting girls.

A notion that my girlfriend is currently trying to beat out of me.

"Ow!" I said as she whacked me on the head with the training pad. Again.

"Keep your guard up," she told me. Again.

"Okay, so a vampire would destroy me on a one-on-one boxing match," I said, "Why am I learning this?"

"The punch is the basis for almost every martial art there is," she said, "Baring grapple-centric ones. Also, it's cardio intensive and builds reflexes. So, we start with the basics. Now don't forget, all the power comes from your feet."

"Your moms power comes from her feet," Jesse snarked.

Jen responded with a side kick to his thigh, causing him to yelp and hop away, "So does mine," she chided, before snapping one at me, too, "You're not doing well enough to make fun. It's embarrassing when _Cordy_ is outshining you all."

"Hey! I heard that!" Cordy shouted, before turning all of her attention back to the laptop, her fingers dancing across the keyboard.

And she certainly was. While me and Jesse routinely got our shit handed to us by a little slip of a country girl (in our defense, she was _much_ stronger than she looked. Apparently horse riding produced abs that could double as washboards. Which was equal parts sexy and terrifying.), Cordelia seemed to pick up whatever move Jen showed her almost instantly. Hell, her typing skill skyrocketed just by watching Ms. Calendar type for twenty minutes. On pure fighting skill, she was on par with Jen. The only reason that she always lost was because, as Giles put it, Jen had years of "Functional muscle growth" from working and growing up on a farm, compared to Cordy's focus on agility and flexibility from years of cheerleading and dance.

"Jesse, you're up," she said, holding up the pads. He settled into his stance, and started snapping off punches, with Jen constantly changing position, awarding every stray bit of attention with a whack on the head just like I received.

"Giles, any thoughts on Attack Plan Alpha?" I asked.

"Having your bait lure a vampire past the tree you are hiding behind, where-upon you hit him with a bat before staking him is not a plan, Xander," Giles admonished, absorbed in a book with the arms of his glasses in his mouth. I sincerely hopped he washed behind his ears.

"Why not?"

"Because life isn't a cartoon," Giles said, turning a page, "Cordelia, how is it coming along?"

"Almost done," she said, "If this I did this right, and it compiles correctly, we should be able to scan a book by taking a snapshot of each page with the webcam, and the computer _should_ read each page, and then tap into the police network to identify any possible supernatural crimes by matching the description with similar entries from the books."

I said, "And if it doesn't? Are we goanna get the same thing we got last week?"

We all stopped and shuddered. I would never look at a German Shepard the same way again.

"Almost… and done," Cordy said, "Okay, let's run this baby… _please compile_ ," she begged quietly.

She pressed _enter_ , and…

A slide came up. _5 Stages of Programming._

"What did you do?" I asked.

"No idea," she said, hitting _enter_ again. The next slide said, _Stage 1: Denial_. It showed a stick figure at a computer, saying _Why won't it compile? Maybe if I run it again_ …

She growled in frustration, and hit _enter_ again, _Stage 2: Bargaining._ The same figure was at his computer, head in hands, saying _If I fix this, will you please run?_

"It's mocking me," Cordy growled, hitting _Control+Alt+Delete. Stage 3, Anger._

"What's happening?" Jen said, coming over with Jesse

"Programming difficulties," Cordy snapped, "Go back to abusing your boyfriend."

"She's dating me," I said.

"I don't know how he survives it," Jesse said. I glared at him.

"You're getting trolled by your own computer," Jen giggled, before frowning, wait a second…"

"What is it?" I asked.

"I know that comic…" she said, "I made it."

All three of us looked at her. She rolled her eyes, "Fine, _I_ didn't make it specifically, but I took a Graphic Design and Drafting class in middle school, and we were partnered up to make a comic. I got a programming nerd to do most of the work. Still only got a C. Look."

 _Stage 5, Acceptance_ slid away, revealing _By Jen Taggard and Joe Akira_.

"Huh," I said, "What's your homework from an alternate timeline in the future doing here?"

"I don't even have it on my laptop anymore," she said, "I know he put it on some sort of nerd humor website called 8Goo or something."

"So how'd it get on here?" Jesse said.

"I don't know,"

"Maybe Giles has some sort of supernatural Wi-Fi?" Jen said.

"What's Wi-Fi?" Cordy asked.

"It connects you to the internet without you having to use your data."

"Huh?"

"I fucking hate the 90s," she muttered, "Okay, it's wireless internet, okay? You don't need to plug it into anything to make it work."

"So you could use the phone and surf the web at the same time?!" I asked.

"What a time to be alive," Jesse said.

"Future is awesome," I declared.

"If I'm picking up internet from your world," Cordy said, "It has to be because of… _this_ ," she pulled up her code, and pointed to a section of it. It would be gibberish if the characters were English, but it was just a bunch of random symbols that matched nothing in any language, but somehow Cordy understood it... not _perfectly_ , but she could generally get the gist, "This line of code deals with picking up chatter from police radio signals. It's the only bit that deals with picking up wireless signal. Now, if I just run it to backtrack where it's getting the signal… _there_ ," she brought up a map, with a pin in the Southern US, "It's coming from Texas."

"Where?!" Giles said, his head snapping us, going pale.

"Texas, just outside of Fort Worth," she said.

"That's where the Council thinks Ben is hiding," Giles said, hurrying over to the computer.

"Ben?" Jesse asked, "Sorcerer, guy who banished Buffy with that weird gem?"

"Yes," Giles said, "The council tried to track him by searching for odd magical signatures, but they had nothing."

"This thing is picking up a Wi-Fi signal all the way across the country?" Jen said, "I don't even get good signal in my own house on the 2nd floor."

"We know this computer came from the same place as that gem," Giles said, "Damn, I should have seen it."

"Seen what?" I asked.

"We were looking for something that didn't belong," Giles said, "A magical signature that was not native to this world. The problem is that it seems Ben is using his own magical aura to cover the background magic the gem is or was emitting."

"Sort of like using deer urine to hide your scent," Jen said.

Giles frowned in slight disgust, "In a- rather horrifying- way, yes. Ben's power is native to this world, so we would only be able to confirm if a source of magic matches his."

"Like DNA," Jesse said, "A sample is useless if you don't have anything to compare it too."

"Exactly," Giles confirmed, pacing, deep in thought now, "Foreign magics, like those used by demons and fairies from other planes of existence, is traceable from a distance, almost like radio waves. We never thought to look for these Wiff-Fee-"

"Wi-Fi," Jen corrected.

"Whatever, waves," he said, "They would be immune to his magics-"

"Wait," I said, "Wasn't Ben slinging magic around for two days? You couldn't get a sample then?"

"We _did_ sample it," Giles argued, "But sorcery isn't like other magics: it degrades faster and doesn't last as long, not without a physical anchor. And besides, the council already had Ben's magic on file."

Something bugged me about that. I remember Percy asking Giles if he knew Ben, but never got a straight answer. And he definitely knew more about Ben than what he could glean from a file. I would never accuse Giles of holding anything from us if he thought it was important or would keep us alive. But I don't he would tell us anything that would make him look bad if he could get away with it.

Yeah, Giles had a history with Ben. And it probably wasn't pretty for either party.

But there is a time and place for such talks. Now wasn't one of them.

"OK, Giles, what are you going to do with this?" I asked, a little tense.

"Nothing I can do, I'm afraid."

"Why not?" Cordy demanded.

"Because the Council doesn't know about the computer," Giles said, "If they did, they would have taken it, by force if necessary. And when they learned that only you could operate it-"

"They would have 'taken' me too?!" Cordy asked quietly, outrage dripping from her voice and her eyes flashing with rage, "These are the people- "

"The people who will take whatever means necessary to ensure the survival of the human race and the continuation of this world," Giles snapped back, "These types of decisions are made far from the front line with the focus that, whatever the cost, this little ball of dirt with continue to spin on the morrow."

"Cordy," I said, quietly, placing what I thought was a calming hand on her shoulder, "It's alright. He's not going to do it. We keep fighting here, win when we can," I looked up at him, "I think we're done for today. Jesse, can I hitch a ride?"

 **Later, in the car.**

"What was that about?" Jesse said.

"What was what?"

"You gave Giles a funny look."

"He knows something about Ben that he's not telling us."

"What do you think it is?"

"Something that makes him look bad."

"Is that a problem?"

"Could be," I shrugged, "If Ben has a grudge against Giles, he might comeback, and we have no way of stopping him if he does."

 _"It's up to you now,"_ Ben had said.

 _"What are you going to do?"_

That question had been bugging me ever since he said it.

"Yeah," Jesse said, "Let's hope he- OH SHIT!"

A pale figure in a long black trench coat just appeared in front of the truck, Jesse slammed on the brakes and swerved, but he still clipped him on the right side of the truck.

"Oh shit, oh shit," I cursed as I got out and ran to him. Thankfully the guy was picking himself up. I hurried to help him, "You alright?"

"Oh, I'll be fine," he said in a thick English accent, dusting himself off. Guy was tall, with a Billy Idol wannabe look, "You, on the other hand," he put a cigarette in his mouth and smiled as his face vamped out, "Aren't goanna be."

 **Please Review!**


	5. The Oracle

**David**

I held my scythe at the ready. It's amazing how, when you are about to die, you notice all the little details of life. Just how good it feels to have your heart pound, the fresh, cool air racing to your lungs, the little sounds that surround you and how vibrant and bright the colors of the world are. My Legion brand burned anew, but it didn't hurt, in fact it felt good, bringing a warmth to my whole body. I may be about to die, but I was going to die a member of the _Legio XII, Fulminata._ I was going to die with a home.

And then a random redhead headshot the one who was about to kill me. I mean comeon, that was my moment.

I whipped around and saw a small motorboat speeding to shore, a rather scared looking redhead with a crossbow manning the helm, shouting, "Get in! hurry!"

I locked eyes with Buffy for one second to make sure she was on the same page I was. I nodded to her. She grimaced and nodded back.

I rolled up and slashed at one of the Dogs, forcing it to leap back and allow her to make a break for the boat. I dodged the spear of one and slashed it in half before following.

The redhead was on the engine as Buffy pushed it free of the sandbar. She somehow pulled herself in and grabbed the crossbow at the same time, firing off a shot while still in midair, which hit one of the Dogs in the heart. I don't know whether the gods were looking out for us or whether she was that good of a shot. And I honestly don't know which I'd prefer.

I pushed through the water and latched on, as Buffy loaded and fired again, making another dog howl in pain. I struggled to pull myself up the moving boat until Buffy grabbed me by the scruff of my collar and pulled me in.

I, David of _CHT III, Legio XII,_ __Best Scout of the Legion, was lying too exhausted to even sit up after being dragged from the water like a weak kitten. Sometimes I hate my life.

"Who are you?" Buffy asked.

I got a good look at her now, the wind pulling the hair from her face, and laughed, "It's Rachel Dare," I said, "The Oracle of the Spirit of Delphi."

She took us to an island surrounded by Mist so thick it looked like actual mist. It looked too big for satellite photos to be able to miss, but I guess that was what the Mist was for. It wasn't that special. It was a pebbled beach, with a small shack next to it, and gardens to the side that smelled too earthy for some small island in the middle of a small lake.

"I got some medical supplies," she said, "Not Ambrosia and Nectar, sutures, bandages, that sort of thing."

"We need food," I said, "And packs, to carry it in. And I have a few questions."

"I have food," she said, "And the only pack I have is mine."

"Questions can wait until after we eat," Buffy said. I glared at her. Fine, she can eat. I wasn't feeling that hungry anyway.

The inside of the cabin looked like some Bohemian Hippie artist threw up all over it. Paintings covered almost every wall, with almost a half dozen easels crowding the remaining space. There was a single bed and a small table for eating, along with a lot of boxes, crammed into one corner, with a small pot over the fire that looked like it was stirring itself, almost like an after-thought. It vaguely reminded me of Jackie's-

No. it doesn't do to dwell on dead friends.

"You paint these yourself?" Buffy asked.

"Yeah," a trace of pride was evident in Dare's voice, "Not much else to do here. Stew should be done soon."

"What's this one about?" she pointed at one still on the easel, looking like something out of a renaissance artist's studio. It showed a woman in armor, a warrior queen, with a man in rags next to her, in front of a crowd of soldiers in similar, less ornate armor, gesturing to him with a stern face pointed at the army.

"That's the day I entered the camp," I said. She somehow made Lady Reyna even more regal than she was in person, which was an accomplishment. I pointed to the fool in rags next to her, "That's me."

"You were there?" Buffy asked.

"No," I glared at the redhead, "She wasn't."

"Then how-"

"As well as sometimes the future," she said, "I can see the past."

"So was there ever a time where David wasn't a jerk?" Buffy asked.

She just giggled, "That's not, me," she said, mirth still in her eyes, "That's the Spirit itself laughing at such a suggestion."

"Hmm," I grunted, narrowing my eyes.

"Have anything to say?" Dare asked cooly.

"Not yet," I said, "Lexi Belle here is hungry."

Dare's brow furrowed in confusion, "The porn star?"

"I'm gonna kill you," Buffy promised, "My name's Buffy Summers. This jackass thinks it sounds like a porn name."

"It kinda does," Dare said, "Well fine, then help me make room. I don't have guests here often."

I said nothing but helped her move easels and the table, setting it before some ceramic bowls, themselves painted, settled on it as if set by invisible people. I pointedly refused the stew as it floated near me. If an inanimate object could look disapproving, the pot managed to look so before settling back over the fireplace.

Dare eyed me wearily before digging into her stew, with Buffy ignoring the whole thing. I continued to stare until Buffy was done, at which point I asked, "Why'd you abandon Camp Half-Blood?"

"Sure you wouldn't have some stew?" Dare asked, worriedly.

"No," I said forcefully, "Answer the question."

"The stew was fine," Buffy said.

"I'm sure it was."

"Then what's the big?"

"I'm a demigod," I said, "I'm bound by Laws of Hospitality."

"So?"

"So once he eats my food," Dare said, "He becomes my Guest, so there are certain rules that he has to abide by."

"Like forcibly arresting her and dragging her back to Camp Jupiter for trial," I said, "Which I will do if your answers aren't satisfactory."

"Wait," Buffy said, "Percy told me a story where he-"

"Killed the monster Geryion in his home after eating from his table?" I finished, "Geryion violated the Law first by attempting to sell him to Cronos, then by renegading their deal. It was perfectly within his rights, and it was actually his responsibility, to kill Geryion. So, Dare," I said, turning to the redhead, "Why did you abandon Camp Half-Blood all those years ago?"

Dare sighed sadly, "I had a Vision," she said.

"Of what?" I demanded.

"That I would die soon after my next Prophecy," she finished, "I knew that they would always come to me, asking questions, and I wouldn't be able to stop myself from issuing another. So I ran."

"That's your excuse?" I demanded.

"David," Buffy said, "Didn't you hear her?"

"He did," Dare said, "But he doesn't understand enough to care. Fact is that he doesn't value his own life enough to understand."

"Oh, I value my life plenty," I said, "I just value my family and my home more."

"Like any good Roman-"

"Like any hallway decent _person_ ," I spat, "You could have stayed. You could have saved the lives of the 115 Heroes who gave their lives in the Seige of New Rome and told us _what was to come_."

"David," Buffy put her hand on my shoulder forcefully, and more painfully than I liked to admit, "Hey, no one's to blame for that, okay? It was the monsters-"

"Monsters are evil," I said, "It is in their nature. I no more hate them than I hate a rabid dog that needs to be put down. But you?" I glared at Dare, "You _chose this life._ "

"Did I?" Dare demanded, "I didn't chose it, it was Fate that-"

" _Fate?!_ " I demanded, before taking a deep breath and shoving the rage down my throat, "Fate? Fuck Fate. No one tells me my fate but me."

"You're in an _army_ ," Buffy pointed out.

"And if Lady Reyna told me to shove a spear through a baby I would shove a spear through her," I shot back, "Fate is for fools who choose to blame someone else for their choices, or their lot in life. They blame Fate, or the gods, or whatever voice in their head to keep from the sickening revelation that they are the ones who chose evil, or cowardice, which is just as bad."

Dare looked furious with me, "You are not an _Oracle_!" she said, "Even when I ran away, I could see the present, and the past! I see how Fate bounds us all together, neither you nor me can stop it! I saw those deaths just as clearly as you did!"

"No," I said in barely more than a whisper, "No, you didn't."

"You don't know me," she said, "You don't know the things-"

"O Oracle, Oracle," I said, pulling a _denarius_ out of my pocket and dropping it at her feet, "Tell me my Fate."

She backed away in fear, her face going completely white, and she said, "No, what have you-"

She chocked and her eyes turned luminescent green, and she dropped to her knees as fog pooled out of her mouth, forming into an older man in a tweed coat.

"Giles?" Buffy asked.

The Spirit ignored her and said:

 _No rest you shall know, Until promises three_

 _You have kept, walk forever through the Tree,_

 _Old allies, a curse broken, shall you save,_

 _And victory find, Between the Fire and Wave_

 _A Wolf and a Champion shall pull you on half,_

 _And despair, and weep, against a Faith's Wrath._

The mist pulled back into her, and she collapsed. Unfortunately, Buffy caught her before she could bust her head on the ground, asking "What was that?"

"A prophecy," I said, shrugging, "She told me my fate."

" _And despair, and weep, against a Faith's Wrath?_ " she asked, "Doesn't wig you out a little?"

"No one tells me my fate but me," I said, "If I have to piss off some bishop or reverend or something, then so be it."

"What about the ' _through the Tree'_ Part?" she asked, "I mean, around a tree, or under a tree, I get. But _through_ it? Are you like a ghost or something?"

"I don't particularly care," I said, "Lay her on the bed, we're done here."

 **PLEASE REVIEW.**


	6. Priorities

**Xander**

 _BANGBANG!_

Thank God Jesse started carrying concealed like Jen did, despite Giles and Ms Calendar's objections.

The vamp jerked as the bullets impacted him, screaming " _Bloody Hell!"_ as we scrambled into the car.

"Gogo _go!"_ I shouted as Jesse slammed on the gas, tires squealing, " _Stupid!"_

"Sunnydale at night," Jesse agreed, "That was too close."

"You're telling me," I said, "Goddamnit, man. When are we ever gonna feel safe again?"

"I don't know man," Jesse said, "Not unless you can turn back time to when we were ignorant."

"That won't fix anything," I said, "They were always there. We just didn't see it," I squeezed my eyes shut and pinched the bridge of my nose. I had a nagging thought that stayed even after the run in with the vampire, "Take the next left," I said.

"What do you need to see Cordy for?" Jesse asked.

"I gotta ask her to do something."

Jesse sighed in disbelief but took the next turn.

Me and Jesse lived off of Vaquero Road, in the "Bad side" of town. Within walking districts to the former Industrial District, it used to house a lot of former blue-collar workers and their families. Problem was, workers mysteriously started to disappear, and the industrial centers, which included the shop that employed my dad, began to close. Where once was poor but respectable workers began to be replaced with drug dealers and some youth gangs.

Cordy, meanwhile, live on "The Boulevard", properly called Sunday Blvd, home to rich and wealthy of Sunnydale. Where my block had 1, count em, 1 working streetlight, Cordy's was so lit that vamps routinely stayed away due to the fact that _someone_ was bound to see them. And that's not even getting into her house.

Look, Cordy's rich, okay? Not just rich, fucking loaded-mega-awesome-Jay-Gatsby rich. My dad helped build her house and brought me one day and even it's skeleton intimidated me. It was three stories of Spanish Colonial Revival flaunting wealth beyond that which I could ever even _dream_ of.

That just made it so much fun to break in and play jokes on her like putting blue dye in her pool when we were younger.

We drew on our old expierence now. Parking next to where the lights began, but still well into the shadows, we looked around for any vamps before we got out. We stood tall, with a swagger in our step, looking for all the world like we belonged there. We reached the point of the Chase's wrought iron fence where there was a blindspot in their security cameras and Jesse knelt on one knee. I used it as a spring board and grabbed the handhold that would otherwise be out of reach. I held on as Jesse grabbed shoulders and pulled himself up to my level before we continued to scale the fence.

From there it was a simple matter of skirting around the edge of the lawn, where all the cameras were pointing. In almost no time we were in the backyard, free of the cameras.

"Dude," he whispered as I grabbed one of the vine walls, "What are you doing?"

"Tould you," I said, "Need to talk to Cordy."

"Well, we've never broken into her room before," Jesse said, "Cause that kinda seems stalkerish. And _you're_ the one with a girlfriend."

"Funny how that turned out," I said, "Always figured you'd be the first one to have a girlfriend."

"Let's be honest," Jesse said, " _Willow_ would have had a girlfriend before I did."

"Are we there yet?"

"Where?"

"Where we can talk about Willow's…"

"Don't think we'll ever completely get over it," Jesse said sadly, "But now's not the time. Come on, man, vamps are waiting."

"Exactly the problem," I said as I began to climb. Don't ask me how I knew which one was Cordy (she caught us our first night and screamed bloody murder at us as we ran.).

Her room was on the 3rd floor, and the vine wall only went up to the 2nd. Thankfully, my ridiculously athletic girlfriend insisted on dates doing things like rock climbing and studying (she seemed to get off on self-improvement in the same way I got off on Twinkies, the madwoman), so, in addition to a slightly higher GPA, I found myself able to move along by finding handholds in those weird circle thing decorations that was popular in this decor of house. Still, by the time I _finally_ reached her window, I was panting and covered in sweat.

I gently tapped on her, rather massive, window, and saw a _very_ feminine figure stir on the bed. So feminine, in fact, that I slipped and almost fell off the window sill, only saving myself by the fingertips off my right hand.

"Shit," I said as I dangled there and her window screen opened and she leaned out, stake in hand wearing a _very_ generous (for me, that is) robe.

"Xander?" she whispered, "What the fuck?!"

"A little help here?" I aksed, eyes specifically _not_ on hers.

"Damnit, you fool," she grabbed my wrist and pulled, just enough for me to grab the ledge and pull myself up to rest on her sill, "What do you want?"

"I honestly can't remember," I said, because her robe was cut all the way to her navel. And she wasn't wearing a bra. I was praying for _just_ the right breeze.

"Hey!" she snapped, closing the robe all the way to her chin and pointing at her eyes, "Eyes up here, dumbass."

"Right," I said, mind getting on track again, "I need you to hack the watchers council."

"You _what?!"_ she whispered.

"I don't think Giles is being entirely straight with us," I said, "Regarding Ben. And I don't think the council is being entirely straight with _him_ about Ben."

"Why do you think that?"

"Percy said it was as if Ben and Giles knew eachother," I said, "And Giles did say he had run into Ben once before, and seemed almost afraid of him. I remember that Mrs Madison wasn't a very powerful witch by the council standards, but they _were_ able to track her down to the trophy. Eventually. Ben was casting around enough spells to waste the entire school and can apparently access a power that less than a dozen people in _history_ have ever been able to," I shuddered as I remembered the Flames, always a capital F, that Ben had conjured up when he was cornered. How they seemed to blind you, yet you couldn't look away, and didn't roar, or even make any sound, but made you _think_ of whispering voices, "I have trouble believing that the Watchers Council haven't found him yet."

"So you want me to use Deadalus' Computer to hack the council record," Cordy said, pinching her nose, "Why don't you just _ask_ Giles about Ben?"

"Because I don't trust him," I said, "Look, we've been going out and fighting, and what has he been doing? Staying in his apartment, maybe lending a hand in research. We had to scrimp and save for our own _crossbow_ for the love of god."

"He's been-"

"Trying to find a way to bring Buffy back," I said, "Yeah, I get it. But she's _not here._ It's not her fault, but she's _still not here_. Here, now, we need every fist in the fight. Not searching in vain for some fore long hope."

"Alright, fine," I said, "I will see if I can hack the Watchers Council records. But you owe me."

"Since when have I ever not owed you?" I said, sneaking a quick peak at the cleavage only _just_ showing.

But she caught that. And pushed me off the windowsill. I managed to grab hold at the last second, and make my way down _mostly_ without incident. But, errant thoughts betrayed my grip and I slipped near the bottom of the 2nd story window.

"Dude," Jesse asked, "What's with that stupid grin?"

"Cordy sleeps naked," I said, "And I saw her boobies."

 **Please Review.**


	7. Failure

n **Buffy**

"I don't like this," David said from the rudder of the small boat.

"You don't like this?" I asked, "This is entirely _your_ fault." I was very conscious of the fact that I wasn't wearing a life vest. I had bad experiences in the water, and things that were in it.

"I didn't know she would be coming with us," he said.

"Did you not hear the part where I prophesized that I would die soon after my last prophecy?" Rachel said.

"You are welcome to stay on the island," he gestured behind us to it, covered in thick white mist.

"The Mist is breaking, fool," she hissed.

"Dog-Shits can't swim," David said.

"But other monsters _can_ ," she shot back.

"Can we save the fighting for later?" I asked, "You are not going to die, I'm the Slayer. I won't allow it. And you," I turned to David, "Does it cause you physical pain to _not_ be an asshole?"

"Yes," he deadpanned, sniffing the air, "They aren't far, but they aren't waiting for us on the shore, either."

"You can _smell_ that?" I asked.

"If I couldn't, I wouldn't have made it through the Rockies," he said, "Lupa was dick-all for help."

"Who?" I asked.

"Later," He said, "Alright, Traitor, stay between me and Lexi. I'll see if I can lead us through them without getting into a fight."

"Relying on your sense of smell?" Rachel asked, "You think you have a better nose than a _monster?_ "

"I have a better nose than a _faun_ ," he said, "Granted, Don the Faun was high as a kite during that instance, but do you have a better idea?"

"Do you even know where you are going?" Rachel asked.

"We are headed to the north end of the lake," he said, "As far away from the Dog-Shits as we can. They don't travel in packs of less than twenty, and tend to split into pairs, and the lake's pretty big. If we can past the first patrol, we should be good until we reach Tahoe, where we can get transportation to the first rally point. Hopefully this little misadventure won't put us far behind."

"And if we run into a patrol?"

"We better damn well kill it before one of them howls," he said, "Those things are damn fast. We could have the whole pack on us in minutes."

He cut the engine about a hundred yards from shore, pulling out two paddles and handing me one. Quietly as we could, we paddled to shore, careful to keep any sound to minimum. As we approached the shore, David carefully stepped out of the boat into the knee deep, crystal clear water and pushed us to the soil covered shore. Except for a deer path directly in front of us, five yards past the shore the forest was covered in brush and tall trees. Surprisingly, he helped us out of the boat, putting his finger to his lips unnecessarily while doing so. Once we grabbed Rachel's pack, which I was the one carrying ("You're the one with the super strength"), he stepped off into the woods, following the deer path.

Up until now, I never _really_ believed his claims to be the best scout in the legion. He walked slowly and deliberately, never cracking a single twig, bending low hanging branches out of his way and carefully setting them back, his head held high, taking sniffs every now and then and scanning the bush, turning his head at the slightest sound.

The route was hard, with a steep incline and a narrow, pothole ridden path. We had to take a break when we were barely three hundred yards from the shoreline because Rachel was breathing too hard.

"Do you want to alert every Dog-Shit in these moutnains?" David whispered as we huddled together, "Because they have rather sharp ass hearing, ya know."

"Shove off, Val Kilmer," I shot back, "Unlike you, she's not the kid of some immortal deity, and unlike me, she hasn't been called to kick vampire ass."

"Who the hell is Val Kilmer?" he asked.

"You uncultured philistine," Rachel said, "How can you not know who Val Kilmer was?"

"Was?" I asked.

"Throat cancer. Tragic."

"Oh, he's dead," David said, "Now I really don't care," he finished before storming off, completely silent, and perching above us on a rock.

"He's a real Scrooge McDuck," I said.

"A real Raphael."

"Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles," I said, "Elias Koteas. Man, was he easy on the eyes."

"Try the one made in 2016," Rachel said, "Two words: Stephen. Amell."

"Even the name sounds dreamy," I agreed, "You know I'm not going to let you die, right?"

"And how are you going to accomplish that?" Rachel asked, "I foretold it."

How _was_ I going to do it? I didn't have the best track record about protecting redheads who put their trust in me. I still wake up at night screaming about seeing Willow's lifeless body fall to the ground, her neck crooked and her eyes empty. Sometimes I'm even there when Lane does it. Sometimes she screams out my name in terror. I can remember with clarity the soul crushing sorrow as Annabeth held me back from chasing after the vastly more powerful vampire. And the absolute shame as it was _Xander_ of all people to avenge her. How I could barely look him in the eye after and kept trying to measure myself up to him and coming up short. How a gangly, awkward teenage boy could take down an ancient vampire that had wiped the floor with us, the most powerful Demigod I've met, even here, and me, a Slayer.

Well, I wouldn't fail this one. I would protect her, "Yeah, well, I only got a C in Destiny, so-"

" _Fuck,_ " David cursed above us, "We gotta go."

"Now?"

" _Now_ ," he said, " _Hurry."_

"Whats the rush?" I said, sliding the pack on again.

" _Winds' changed_ ," he said.

"So?" Rachel asked.

" _Now they can smell us,_ " He stressed, "They are coming this way."

"Don't be so-" I was interrupted by what sounded like ten wolves howling at once, "Let's run."

"Yeah," Rachel agreed.

"Take her and run north," David said, pointing uphill, "There's a road that runs along Tahoe Lake, flag down a car, anything. You need to get to the intersection of the 50 and 395 _before_ sunset tomorrow."

"Where the hell are you going?" I demanded.

"The Oracle is worth more than a scout," David said, pulling out his scythes, "You're the better fighter, you have the best chance of keeping her safe. I'll see if I can pull them away, give you time."

"That's suicide!" I said.

"Not much of a loss," he said as he scrambled off uphill, hanging a left, " _Go!"_

"What the hell?!" I demanded, "Where does that jackass get off being heroic?"

"He's not heroic," Rachel said, "He just doesn't want to live."

"Not his choice," I grumbled, "Come on, we need to move."

We booked it up the hill, following the deer path. Rachel was winded almost immediately. I was even feeling the elevation and slope, and the heavy pack certainly wasn't helping matters. I heard barking and yipping coming from the west, along with more howling as the Dog-Shits started chasing David. That asshole better not die. He's my one guide across this country and I will not have anyone else, especially not a jerk of his caliber, die for me.

"Buffy," Rachel gasped, "The wind!"

I gulped as I realized too.

The wind changed for just a second.

What are the odds that it would blow our scent across the Dog-Men?

All the odds.

I heard frenzied barking that seemed to be getting closer, I turned to her, " _Run!_ ".

We sprinted up the hill, and we could see the peak and heard the beautiful sound of a semi passing. I grinned in victory as we cleared the brush and-

Almost fell off a forty-foot drop to the road. I managed to pull Rachel back before she careened off the cliff.

"Okay," I panted, turning too her, "We'll jump with you in my arms. It'll still hurt, but we'll survive."

"Okay," she nodded putting her hand on my shoulder, "I trust you."

Her blood sprayed my face as the iron tip of an arrow sprouted from her throat.

"Rachel?!" I gasped, catching her as she crumpled, "Hey, Rachel, stay with me."

She just stared into my eyes, terrified as she gurgled blood through the wound, he body limp.

"Rachel, you're going to be okay," I said, my throat closing up, "You're gonna be okay, Willow."

She just gurgled blood again, this time through her mouth and throat. She spasmed and made a horrific choking sound, spraying more blood in my face. She gurgled once more before going still.

"Willow?" I asked, "No, no no no-no-no _nononononono-_ "

I heard a growl, and snapped up to see a dog man with a bow drawn, aimed at me. And then the world went dark.

The dog's soul was a malevolent purple, just like a vampire's. I could see it, under its skin, it's fire filing his veins. And I could hear it whispering, too. Just like when Ben summoned the Fire, the collection of human thought. This was it too. The monster's soul. It was human thought. It's evil thought. The wild, destructive thought that made savage tribesmen rape the screaming women of their defeated enemies, that threw babies from walls for the sheer sadistic pleasure of the screams of their mothers, that made men watch as their children were killed and wives raped and homes burned and fields sown with salt, before they were taken into a life of servitude and stripped of anything resembling dignity. These monsters were made from the human capacity for evil.

I felt the ageless, unfathomable voice in me say _KILL THEM ALL. SMASH. BURN._

I snarled and leapt at it, knocking the arrow away mid-flight, and slamming my fist into its gut. It flew back and smacked into a tall tree. I charged and slammed my fist into its face, not stopping until I felt wood disintegrate beneath my knuckles. I leaped aside as the tree fell and backhanded another dog, feeling it's skull cave in from my blow.

More of the dogs were running to their doom, dozens of them. I snarled as they charged, feeling the voice in my head grow louder as the world got even darker.

 _ **KILL THEM. BURN THEM. TEAR THEM. SMASH THEM.**_

They were pathetically slow, and snapped like twigs. I kicked them through trees, ripped their arms off their bodies. I turned their own spears against them, shoving them with such force they pierced even their monster flesh. I squeezed their skulls until they popped like ripe cherries, and twisted their heads until they separated from their shoulders.

More kept coming, swarming through the darkness, shades of purple fire. It just made me angrier, made me want to kill even more. Extinguish their evil flames.

Until a pastel green, almost blue, fire shot through the darkness and tackled me. Together we tumbled through the air, until we landed on an unstable platform that shook like it was about to buck us off. I rolled onto the green fire, heard it's whisperings like a lost child alone in the woods, and wrapped my hands around it's throat.

But this one wasn't evil.

Slowly, the darkness retreated, leaving David, his face going purple, gagging. I let go and backed away as he hacked, " _Stupid fucking pornstar bitch."_

I panted as all the strength left me, looking around. We landed on top of a camping trailer, and behind, us, trying to keep up but failing, were the dogs.

And we left Rachel's body behind.

I failed again.

 **Please Review.**


	8. Of Past Sins

**Xander**

I nodded at Jesse. He nodded back.

I flicked open the Zippo lighter and lit the fuse on our little pipe bomb. I didn't understand the chemistry behind it, and neither did Jen or Cordy, but Jesse assured me it made a loud bang and a bright flash, but wouldn't burn the place down. I just had to be careful I didn't stun myself with it.

Jesse hefted his "Duster" (new name to come shortly), a weapon of our own design. Basically, a long stake with a broad axe head in the middle, able to both behead and stake a vamp with equal ease. As soon as the short fuse was lit, he opened the door to the nest and I threw it in, and he closed it just in time for us too hear a deafening _BANG!_ He opened the door and I raced in, my own Duster at the ready.

The first Vamp was on one knee directly in front of me as I jabbed him in the heart with the stake end of the weapon. Unfortunately, in is re-dying moments, he grabbed me and pulled me down before he dusted. I rolled back onto my feet just as I was tackled by another vamp.

I shoved the haft of my duster into its neck as it growled and snapped at me. I cursed and hooked its head on the axe head, throwing it off of me. I rolled back to my feet, again, and stared it down.

The vamp, a deceptively short blonde in a skimpy dress, that looked about halfway being torn off, snarled, "You were foolish to come here, food."

"Foolish to turn away from the door," I shot back as Jen came through with the shotgun.

The vamp blinked in confusion before Jen nailed her in the spine with a bean bag round from point blank range. She crumpled and twitched with a crooked spine, broken from the force of a short range shot from a 12 gauge, as I shoved my Duster into her heart. After she exploded to dust, we formed back up, me on left, Jesse on right, Jen in the middle.

"Cordy," I said, "Watch the entrance. Jesse, Jen, follow."

We methodically moved through the rest of the abandoned office building, checking each room and closet. We found none beyond the four vamps in the first room, but did find a bunch of shit that vampires like to collect. A lot of it wasn't worth anything, like lawn ornaments, mail boxes, and blood stained clothes. There was, however, an assortment of rather expensive watched, jewels, and around $1,000 in small bills. Vampires, it seemed, stole for the simple reason that they could, not because it was worth anything.

"Okay," I said, "Cordy, do your thing."

"Still don't think this is a good idea," she said as she set down the laptop on the one desk still standing.

"Jesse, Jen, you know what to do," I ordered. They nodded and pulled out the chains and padlocks and went to secure the exits and front doors.

"Still odd that they actually listen, isn't it?" Cordy said as soon as they were out of earshot.

"Yeah," I said, "Not as weird as _you_ actually listening."

"I do what's smart," she said, "You just happen to say it."

"Did you just compliment me?" I asked.

"No," she smiled, "I just say that the laws of probability are finally catching up after years of you being stupid."

"I'll take what I can get," I said as Jen and Jesse returned, "How long?"

"Five minutes," Cordy said, her hands flying across the keyboard, "I can't believe I've turned into a geek."

"Sexy geek," Jesse offered.

"I'm _always_ sexy," she said, "Calling Cordelia Chase 'sexy' is redundant."

"Ya know that Pride's a sin, right?" Jen said.

"We all have our crosses to bear," Cordy shot back, not even looking up from the computer.

"Yeah, mine just happens to be a good boyfriend," Jen said as she slapped my butt.

I shot Jesse a confused look, thinking, _What's this about?_

He pinched his nose and thought, _God, you're stupid_.

I quipped, "That doesn't make me feel used at all."

Jen rolled her eyes and asked, "Wanna go make out and I'll let you cop a feel?"

"What do I know? Use me up," I said excitedly.

"Later," Cordy said, "I'm in."

"See if you can find anything on Ben," I asked as I went around the desk and looked at the screen. It looked to me like random symbols flashing across the screen, but somehow it was coded to Cordy's brain so she could understand it.

"I got over 250 results on the word 'Ben'," she said, "I'll add 'Magic' as well… 175 results."

"Add 'Rupert Giles'," I said, while the other two looked at me in confusion.

"I don't exactly feel comfortable with this," Jen said, "After all, I live with him."

"I want to know exactly what Giles' history with Ben is," I said, "I don't think he's been-"

"Got it," Cordy interrupted, "Now, alright, let's see what-"

The computer beeped and the screen flashed, before the screen flattened itself out on the desk and shot a hologram into the air behind it, a collection of pictures and a body of text floating in the air. A body of _English_ text.

"I have no idea how I did that," Cordy said.

"However you did it," I said, "Good work."

"You should read it," Jesse said, his eyes wide.

 **Later, at Giles house**

Giles opened his door and blinked in surprise, "Xander, Jesse, Cordelia, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"We read your file," I said, "About Ben."

"You- You _what?!_ " he asked incredulously, "How-"

"Cordy hacked it from the Council archives," I said, "I think you have explaining to do."

"That- that is a complete breach of privacy!" Giles argued as we shoved our way through to his apartment.

"Yeah, well, I'm not too worried about breaching the privacy of an attempted kidnapper," Jesse said.

"It's more-"

"Complicated?" Jen said, looking betrayed and disgusted, "Ben was _8 years old_. What you did was sick-"

" _Would you all shut up and listen!_ " He snapped, before taking a breath and sitting down, looking defeated, "What happened was regrettable, to say the least. But we didn't- we didn't have all the information."

"Like what?" I asked, "One chance to tell us your side of the story."

He nodded, his eyes distant, as if remembering, "There was a prophecy. Of a boy, the male counter-part to the Slayer, instead of being physically powerful, he would be magically powerful. He would 'Make Evil Tremble', is what the prophecy said, and 'Wield the Fire of God'. It was understood that it would be Flame of Humanity, the very essence of human thought, a branch of magic that is incredibly difficult to use, let alone master."

" _I have said, Ye are gods; and all of you are children of the most High_ _,"_ Jen said. When we looked at her, she said, "What? It's a Psalm. Don't you guys go to church?"

"Yes," Giles agreed, "For millenia, wizards, witches, sorcerers and wise men have tried to master the Flame, but none have come close. And then the Council hears tales of a boy, apprenticed to a wandering Dark Wizard by the name of Deacon Wipjacki, a boy who had a natural talent for summoning and controlling the Flame. I was sent to investigate. It didn't take me long to find a name, and with it, a history."

"What history?" I asked.

"He killed his parents," Giles said, "Burned down their home. We suspected the Wizard did it after witnessing the boy-"

"Ben," I said, "His name is Ben."

"Ben, yes," Giles agreed, "It couldn't have been him. He would have been four at the time it had happened. Barely strong enough to light a candle, not anywhere near powerful enough to melt an entire mobile home. But we suspected Wipjacki of killing the boy's parents so that he may teach and control his power. Well, the Council couldn't allow a Dark Wizard control of a force that could burn through even the most powerful of protection spells, so we-"

"Who's 'we'?" Jesse asked.

"They sent a team to assist," Giles said, "A powerful mage of our own, one of my distant cousins, in fact," the way he said it, sadly and fondly, told me that nothing good happened, "We tried to retrieve Ben, free him from the Dark Wizard, but we suspect he panicked, probably brainwashed into thinking we were villains-"

"A bunch of old men trying to take a young boy from his home," I said, "Yeah, he was really brainwashed."

"And he lost control of his powers," Giles said, "He burned down half the forest, at the age of 8. The Dark Wizard died, along with the rest of my team."

"What did this Deacon Wipjacki do that made him evil?" I asked.

"Dabbled in forbidden magics," Giles said, "Robbed some banks, ran cons. We suspect he wasn't very powerful."

"You were wrong," Cordy said, her eyes flashing, "Deacon Wipjacki stopped three different demonic invasions in his lifetime. He robbed banks and ran cons to feed himself, because the Council refused to grant him a license, because he didn't toe the party line. He never killed anyone who didn't deserve it."

"Killing someone can addictive," Giles said, "Especially if you have power. It taints you, to your soul."

"Is that why the Council does it?" Jesse asked.

"The Council-"

"Does what it must, right?" I said, "So it's alright for the Council to fight evil, but not anyone else, right?"

"The Watchers Council is the front line of the fight of good!" Giles said, "Do you know how many times it was the Watchers, not just Slayers, who saved the world? Who stopped demonic plagues from decimating humanity, halted occult rituals that would have thrown open the gates of the world, allowing unspeakable horrors into it?"

"No," I said, "I just know the Watchers' Council ordered the death of a man who did so three times," I turned away, "I don't know about the three of you, but I'm done here."

 _ **PLEASE REVIEW.**_


	9. People Hated

**David**

We waited tensely at the small clearing. I was tense because I was expecting the Dogs to show up. Buffy was tense because I stole the truck we needed to get here, which she was staying in.

I smelled the Eagles before they landed. The fools were using a tail wind parallel, instead of diagonally, which would still give them the boost but make it harder for monsters to pinpoint them off of their scent. That shitty tactics can only mean one thing.

When the eagle landed, a massive mountain of a cretin stepped off of its back. One of the best fliers of the Legion, as well as one of the best personal fighters to ever stain the Legion, this cocksucker was on my personal shitlist because those are the _only_ two things he does well. His knowledge of tactics was nil, as was his ability to scout. He made up for those deficiencies by having a head bigger than the damn Grand Tetons.

"Mark," I said curtly, putting extra effort in erasing any and all forms of respect that may taint my tone.

"David," Mark replied, similarly lacking in any respect. Fucker. Disrespect was _my_ thing, "Where's Paul?"

I just glared at him. He glared back, "May the soil rest lightly upon him."

"Dog-Men," I said, "Lost our wheels. In a few hours, this one is going to be hot."

"Sounds like a personal problem," Mark replied, "Blondie still here?"

"Buffy, fuckwit," I replied, "And yes, she's still here. In the truck."

"I outrank you."

"Eat a bag of flaccid horsecock, Mark," I said, "Where's the next rendezvous?"

"How should I know?" Mark replied.

"Bitch, I _know_ for fact you were informed of the route we were supposed to take," I accused, "Quit being a dick and give us the coordinates."

"That's rich," he said, climbing back onto his eagle, "Coming from you. I shall inform Octavian that you are on your way. After all, _you_ were responsible for holding onto your map. Again, sounds like a personal problem."

"You ever want kids, Mark?" I said, "Because you're on your way to me making sure that it will be impossible."

He fucking _laughed_ at me as he flew off into the sunset. Motherfucker.

I was still fuming as I climbed in the truck, and made sure to slam the door. It helped, a little.

"Why'd you defend me?" Buffy asked.

I glared at her as I started the truck, "How'd you hear?"

"Slayer Hearing," she said.

"Hmm," I grunted, "I like you more than him."

"That says a lot."

"No," I clarified, "It doesn't. Mark is a good fighter, especially with a sword. I'd seen him draw with Jason Grace, and he can fly with the best of them. But he's a shit scout, and has almost gotten me killed multiple times because he's a loudmouth who doesn't respect Injun Country."

"I think it's called 'Native American Country' now," she said.

"Political Correctness can eat a dick," I growled, but softened, "I am sorry I couldn't protect Dare."

"You were going to bring her before the Legion to be killed," she said, equally softly.

"I wanted justice for my friends who didn't desert and died," I said, "That wasn't justice."

"She's not the first one I couldn't protect," she said, gazing out the window.

"Who else?" I asked, still speaking softly.

"Willow," she said, "She was the first person I befriended when I moved to Sunnydale. She was, man she was a nerd. Into computers and hacking and everything."

"What happened?"

"A vampire snapped her neck like a twig," she blinked away tears, and said with more anger than I expected, "I didn't even manage to get vengeance."

"Hard to believe he got away."

"He didn't," she said, still angry, "A friend, a normal, Xander trapped him underground. Without food, or any chance of escape."

"How long will he last?"

"An eternity," she said, "Even if they don't feed, vampires are immortal. He'll grow weak, and insane from the hunger, but he won't die."

"It would have been a mercy he doesn't deserve to kill him," I said, "This Xander sounds like my kind of fella."

"He was stupid," Buffy said, "He could have gotten killed. They still could _be_ killed, because neither me nor Percy is there to protect them. God only knows what dangers they face now."

 **Xander**

"Xander," Cordy growled. It's amazing how even using _my_ voice she sounds so much like herself. I guess inflection really is 90% of language, " _Stop touching my boobs!"_

"But they are so awesome!" I protested.

"So," Jen began, "I kissed Xander's body, but Cordy is in the pilots' seat. Does that mean I kissed Cordelia, or Xander?"

"I'm just here for the show," Jesse said, before picking up another handful of popcorn, "But to find out, I _definitely_ think you should kiss Xander in Cordelia's body."

"You perverted mo- _Really, penis?!"_ she/he (he/she?) glared down at her/mine (mine/her?) crotch, "First you make a mess of the bathroom," I guess aiming is a learned skill, "And now at the mere _thought_ of girl-on-girl wakes you up?!"

"Cordelia," I said, hands still playing with Cordelia's/my boobs, "Staring at _linoleum_ wakes that guy up."

 **David**

"I think they'll be alright," I said, "Well, we're fucked."

"How?"

"We got a couple hours' worth of fuel," I said, "After that, we're out of money, out of wheels, out anal lube to-"

"I get it," she said, and then frowned in thought, "Is anal lube any different from regular lube?"

"I don't know," I said, "But you get the point. We need a ride. And we're far from any form of urban center."

"Where are we?" she asked.

"Northern Arizona," I answered, "Not far from the Grand Canyon."

"Ever been up here before?"

"No," I growled, feeling the engine begin the slow, uneven descent into that state of _out of gas_. I sighed, but managed to push it along until we pulled into a gas station.

We both climbed out. I pulled out my wallet and checked. I had $46 in random bills. It might get us a couple gallons. Maybe enough to get us to the State Park and allow us to jack some tourists' vehicle so we could continue. Except the fact that the BOLO would go right to Arizona State Highway Patrol, and the odds of us getting caught by a patrol car weren't nearly as long as I hoped. And we'd have a better chance of facing another army of monsters than a couple of angry cops. Monsters will just kill you.

I glanced at her, "You got any cash?" I asked.

She shook her head, "I just wanna stare at the food."

The store was empty except for a big guy standing and munching on something in the back next to the beer. I glanced at the counter, but no one was behind it. Some jackass did knock a stand of lighters off the counter. The place also smelt like ass. Like body odor, bear scat, and a slight undercurrent of synthetic cleaner. I wouldn't want to be the young punk when the boss found him.

"See if you can't steal some food," I whispered to her, before checking on the big guy at the side of my vision. He was still noisily munching on something, maybe a sandwich with some crunchy lettuce or some chips in it by the sound of it.

I glanced around, and then gazed longingly at the racks of jerky and chips. I pulled one, a pack of teriyaki jerky and gave it a futile sniff and almost gagged. The scent of BO and bear scat was even worse, with a healthy dose of human shit coming from the bathroom. The faggot must have left the door open. Must be unisex too, because I smelled menstrual blood as well, probably from some bitch changing her tampons and throwing them away. Whoever did it must have had a heavy flow, too.

"Hey buddy," I said, rounding the corner, "Have you seen-"

The guy wasn't standing. He was sitting. And his shoulders still towered over the isle.

He also wasn't eating a sandwhich. A corpse in a blood-covered blue smock stared lifelessly at me. He, the kid, was missing most of his arm too. The big guy raised the corpse to his-

One-eyed face. And bit the remaining stump of his arm off, blood running down his chin.

"Fuck me."


	10. Shotguns and Spike

**Xander**

"Radiocheck," I said.

 _"This is stupid,_ " Jen said, _"But you're loud and clear."_

 _"I agree with Country Girl,"_ Cordelia said, _"On more than one level, this is suicidal."_

"We're not finding any movement," I said, ignoring their criticisms. They weren't the ones who were in the sewers below a cemetery, hunting for a monster that was making the local high school students disappear.

Then again, their accusations of stupidity might hold water, considering me and Jesse were the ones in the sewers below a cemetery, hunting for a monster that was making the local high school students disappear.

I gulped but pressed on, Jesse watching my back. Our shotguns, loaded with rocksalt, both to protect us from friendly fire and, for some reason, lethal to some monsters, had lights at the end shining an eerie red light into the walls of the sewer. Our Dusters were tucked into our belts at the small of our backs. The flack jackets we wore had high collars to protect our jugulars, along with pouches filled with goodies such as bombs, silver "brass" knuckles, Christmas balls filled with holy water, and other goodies. We looked almost like professional monster slayers, if I said so myself.

"I should get a hat," I said.

"Not this _again_ ," Jesse groaned behind me.

"You think of professional monster slayer, you think of a guy in a long coat with a nifty hat," I argued.

"I told you," Jesse said, exasperated, "Those movies take place in _Transylvania_ , where it's always _raining._ Do you know how ridiculous you would look in _Southern California_ wearing a long coat, let alone a wide brimmed hat?"

 _"Is he wanting a hat again?"_ Jen asked.

"Shut up," I said into the radio.

 _"If you dare be that unfashionable, I will hit you,"_ Cordy threatened.

 _"Personally, I think he'd look good in a stetson,"_ Jen said, _"Just not in a rediculous long coat. Some flannel and heavy duty jeans with a good pair of boots. Can you say 'sexy cowboy'?"_

"Absolutely not," I said, having a mental image of me in a cowboy getup looking like a life sized Woody doll.

 _"Well, saddle up,"_ Cordy said, _"You're ten meters from the target, on your left."_

"In normal people units, please," I said.

"Ten Yards," Jesse said.

"Oh," I blinked, "Why didn't you just say so?"

 _"Why isn't the smart one the one with the radio?"_ Cordy asked.

I get no respect.

I kept my shotgun on the door as Jesse gave it a gentle pull. Fortunately, it opened smoothly. I pulled out a bomb and he nodded, raising his shotgun to cover the door. I flicked open the zippo and lit the fuse before tossing the pipe bomb into the room, the shoved it closed with all my might, and a deafening boom as the bomb exploded. I shoved open the door as Jesse smoothly entered the room,swinging left. I brought up my shotgun and swung right, checking all corners.

The room was empty.

"Fuck," I growled, "Wrong tree."

And then something landed between me and Jesse.

I don't care what anyone says. We let out manly noises of mild surprise.

Me and Jesse immediately backpedaled and leveled our shotguns at the figure in the center of the room. Even in the reddish light of our flash lights, he was pale, with bleached blonde hair, an angular face, a scar over his eyebrow, and a punk sense of fashion.

I fired as soon as it clicked.

The vampire from the road.

Jesse made the connection too, opening fire on it as well. It snarled in rage and charged me, ignoring the rocksalt taking chunks out of it's clothing. It whipped my shotgun out of me hands and slammed it's fist into my side. Even through the layer of flack and Kevlar, that _hurt._ Then it spun me around and sank it's teeth into the neck protector.

I gritted my teeth, thankful that it did it's job, and pulled my Duster out and blindly swung it over my shoulder. I felt the teeth remove themselves just before it landed in something soft and wet, and a feral roar deafened my ear as I rolled away, allowing Jesse to slam more shotgun shells into it before clicking empty.

It looked up at us in absolute rage, it's coat and shirt torn to shreds, along with a bloody mess covering most of it's upperbody. I knew from experience that salt retarded the regenerative properties of vampires. It growled, "I really liked this jacket," it laughed, "So you two are the hunters that have the vamp community running scared."

Jesse just glared, slung his shotgun, and pulled out his own Duster. I hefted my own.

"Oh, no introductions?" he laughed, "Well then, guess it is some unmarked graves for the two of you. I, for your peace of mind, am Spike."

"What a coincidence," I said, "I got one for your heart right here."

"It speaks!" he laughed, "I swear, if the gossip is to believed, then you two were on your ways to being the next Holtz!" he looked confused, "Holtzes? Holtzi?"

"The fuck is it talking about?" Jesse asked.

"You couldn't shoot it in the mouth?" I asked.

"Doesn't matter, anyway, I suppose," it said, "Considering you two will be dead before the hour's up. I would turn you, hell knows you deserve it, but I don't like minions who can turn on me."

"Definitely should have shot it in the mouth," Jesse agreed.

"Or at least it's face," I said, "That hair? With those clothes."

"That's uncalled for," it growled, gesturing with his hands, "Well, what the hell are you waiting for?!"

Three vamps stepped out of the doorway, crouched and game faces on. These three minions were so generic that they seemed to be wearing matching clothes, all fake leather and goth paraphernalia.

Cake.

Three

They charged us. One swiped at me, but I ducked and planted the axe-head of my Duster into it's side and shoved it into the one that charged Jesse, sending both into a heap on the floor. The third swiped at me, but I ducked again and scooted left, making the vamp overextend and allowing Jesse to come in behind me and stake it with his own Duster.

Two.

The remaining pair pulled themselves off their feet and charged us. I ducked low, lowered my shoulder, and jabbed my Duster foreward into it's leg, and then flipped the vamp over my shoulder like a shovel full of shit. I pivoted and jabbed my Duster into the heart of the one Jesse was wrestling with.

One.

The final one had learned it's lesson and was trying to scurry away. I planted my axe-head into it's calf and dragged it back for Jesse to stake, before turning to Spike, who was laughing his ass off.

"Good show!" it applauded, "Good show indeed! Oh, it's a pity that none are here to witness this tussle! Oh, it's going to be so much _fun!_ "

" _Definitely should have shot it in the mouth,_ " we both remarked.

It roared and charged us. I scooted right while Jesse went left, both of us swinging our Dusters at it. It strafed right, narrowly missing the axe-head and stake of Jesse's Duster and grabbed the haft of mine before backhanding me across the face.

I saw stars as me head flew through space, my feet following. The earth slammed into my back, driving all the air from me as my head slammed into the ground, making the stars come back as I gasped for air.

I blinked and saw the blurry image of Jesse and Spike fighting, with Spike easily dodging all of Jesse's swipes and jabs with his Duster. Spike grabbed the haft of Jesse's Duster and slammed his palm into Jesse's chest sending him flying back.

I mentally growled, as I didn't have the breath to actually do so, as I hauled myself to my feet. I felt bile rise in my throat, burning it as it came up. I swallowed and charged the vamp's back, leaping on it and putting it in a chokehold.

"Really?" Spike said, annoyed, "A chokehold on a guy who doesn't breathe? How did you survive being so retarded, mate?"

My response, I dare say, was the wittiest and pithiest ever in the whole universe.

I puked on him.

Not a lot, I'll admit, but enough. The vamp growled, " _Disgusting!_ " Which seemed a bit conceited, considering the source. That thought was driven out of my mind by his fist impacting like a meteor between my eyes.

I felt the beginning numbness of a massive headache, but everything seemed to get brighter. I, somehow, tightened the grip on my chokehold and drove my knee into it's spine, making him growl, distantly. I felt him _whumph_ as Jesse drove his shoulder into it's mangled chest, knocking both of us down, and driving the wind from me again. I felt my hold collapse completely, and blinding pain erupt through my head as the world blacked out for a second. When it came back, _everything_ was as bright as a kleig light shining in my face, and I squeezed my eyes shut as I curled up and retched.

 _"COME ON!"_ the voice of God, which sounded suspiciously like Jesse, shouted in my ear, _"WE HAVE TO MOVE!"_

I let him pull me up as the earth rolled under my feet, almost as bad as the time I took a ride on the _Vomitron 3000_ when I was 6. I felt him pull my arm over his shoulder and he manhandled me out the door, just as a thunderbolt crashed in the room behind us.

" _THAT WON'T STALL HIM FOR LONG!"_ he roared in my ear. My response was another retch.

He shouted again, " _MASTER VAMP! HE'S NOT FAR BEHIND US!"_

" _ROGER. GET TO THE SURFACE. EXFILL IMMEDIATELY."_ A voice that sounded like Cordy's roared again.

Jesse redoubled our speed, and I felt my lungs burn as we raced through the hot and humid sewers. As we reached our exit, a steam grait outside the gym, he shoved my useless ass up through it before following me up, dropping his last bomb in before slamming the grate back in place.

We ran, my lungs on fire and my legs encased in lead, to the parking lot where Cordy waited in Jesse's truck.

We were within sight of it when the vamp grabbed the shotgun still slung on my back and threw me six feet.

" _It was a good show_ ," it growled all traces of amusement gone, " _But playtime is-_ "

A deafening _BANG_ and a little ball of fire erupted from it's shoulder. It snarled and turned just as Jen baseball slid into it's knees, knocking it off it's feet.

She rolled up faster than it did, and kicked it's face like it was a football to a field goal. The thing rolled away as she unslung her carbon fiber compound crossbow with a pricey reflex sight attached, and loaded a bolt filled with gunpowder and the primer of a shotgun shell under a wickedly sharp broadhead.

" _Should have shot him in the mouth_ ," me and Jesse said.

I blinked and hauled myself up, unslinging my shotgun and loaded shells into it, trying to look intimidating and not like I just spent 12 rounds getting Chuck Norris Roundhouse Kicked to the face.

The vamp roared at us in total rage, it's entire upper torso a bloody mess, it's right arm hanging uselessly as it's shoulder was blown to bits, with the jagged edges of it's shoulder bone sticking out.

I screamed, _"KILL IT!"_

Jen fired the bolt, but the vamp caught it mid flight and tossed it away. Me and Jesse unloaded into it, our rocksalt rounds tearing through it as Jen reloaded. One of us even got it in the mouth.

It fell to it's knees before us, looking at us with dizzy eyes, it's shallow breathing coming is gargling rattles. It was almost pitiful.

"Jen," I said, "Put it out of it's misery."

"With pleasure," she replied, leveling her crossbow at the creature.

And, naturally, that's when everything went wrong.


End file.
